Drumming the Spirit out of the Storm
by Time Lady 802379
Summary: The Master has waited for his chance, and now the time for revenge has arrived. With the Doctor powerless in his grasp, and Martha and Jack taken care of, the Master can have some fun! Major DoctorWump! On a long hiatus, while I decide to carry on or not.
1. The War Drums

**Ok! The start of a brand new story. It just came to me and wouldn't go away, so I gave in. I have to admit, I do love a bit of DoctorWump, so this one may turn out to hurt the Doctor quite a lot. I can't help it, he's just so cute when he's scared/angry/hurt/unconscious/being tortured! All hail the mighty Doctor!**

**I will carry on with The Doctor Plus Coffee Equals Chaos, but I prefer this one, so I'm giving this one priority.**

**This chapter is dedicated to my friend, Alex, who would love to come on this site, but I refuse to tell her the web address! (Hehe!)**

**On with the story!**

**--*WARNING: DOCTORWUMP AHEAD!*--**

* * *

The Doctor threw the empty chip wrapping over his shoulder. It landed neatly in the bin behind him. Jack was drunk out of his head, and Martha was trying to stop him from trying (And failing) to chat up a very unresponsive lamp post. According to Jack, she was very attractive, possibly even more so then the Doctor's coat, which he had been trying to chat up a few minutes earlier, when the Doctor had hung it over a tree branch for no reason whatsoever. The Doctor thought that Jack was either so drunk that he didn't realise that there was no-one inside the coat when he had tried to snog its butt off, (Which the Doctor had recorded on Martha's phone, strictly for blackmailing purposes, of course, he assured Martha as he pocketed the phone) or he just had even stranger taste in women then he had previously thought. One example was when Jack had been trying to make out with a cactus the previous day. The cactus, (Again according to Jack) had been the strong silent type, and was only unresponsive because she was asleep after returning from the arctic from rescuing her camel from the psychopathic, evil genius hedgehog by the name of Mr. Snuffles. Martha pulled Jack back as he tried to launch himself of a bench to try and climb his "lover's" neck. The Doctor laughed as Martha gave up and walked on ahead, tutting to herself. He walked over to Jack, who was now sitting on the bench, holding his head in his hands.

"_Is the alcohol wearing off?" _He thought. "Jack?" He asked the man, sitting down next to him. Jack looked up at him, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"She left me!"He whispered sadly, burying his face in the Doctor's chest, sobbing.

"Come on now. Shhhhhh" The Doctor whispered in Jack's ear, rubbing his hand up and down the man's back, trying to calm him down. "You were always too good for her. Her light bulb flickered every time anything even remotely resembling a man walked past. You weren't the only one. I hear there's a wall round the corner, apparently she always shows up for dates. Even if you're late she'll wait for you, and won't go wandering. The not wandering thing is very important, trust me! I think you'd have a pretty good chance with her ya know!"

"Ya think so?" Asked Jack, raising a tearstained face to look the Doctor square in the eye.

"I know so" The Doctor replied, trying not to laugh at all the blackmailing possibilities passing through his mind, and spoil the moment.

"I just wanna know what it's like to be loved by a woman!" Jack cried, sniffing into the Doctor's shoulder.

"I know" Replied the Doctor.

Jack looked into his eyes again. "You feel like a woman" He sobbed, bursting into tears again, burying his face in the Doctor's neck and rubbing a hand down the side of the Doctor's face lovingly.

"_Yeah, thanks Captain Compliment!" _The Doctor thought. "Thanks Jack" He said, solemnly.

* * *

Martha walked on ahead. She thought it was hilarious that Jack was drunk, but it got a bit tiring after a while. They had first entered the pub at 1:00pm, yesterday, the 11th July, 2008. It was now 5:00am on July 13th, and Jack had been drinking the whole time. She looked back at the pub, and saw its sign glittering in the streetlamps that penetrated areas of the early morning darkness. "_The War Drums"_. Martha looked back at the Doctor and Jack. They were a few streetlights away, sitting on a bench in a pool of light, as Martha was, which made it easier to see when Jack decided to show just how drunk he was. He suddenly decided that the Doctor actually was really fit now Jack looked at him through rose-tinted glasses. Martha doubled up laughing as Jack pinned the Doctor to the bench and proceeded to land a great big snog on the Time Lord's lips. The Doctor's eyes widened in shock, he leapt up from the bench, throwing Jack off him, choking and swallowing half the bottle of water he produced from his pocket it two gulps. It was a good thing that the street was deserted, Martha reasoned, otherwise half the drunk population of London would probably be trying to follow Jack's drunken example. Martha leant back against the lamp post and closed her eyes, letting the normalness of the scene surround her.

She should have known it wouldn't last long. She suddenly became aware of the sound of someone sobbing. She opened her eyes, lifted her head and looked to her right. There was Jack, chasing the Doctor round and round in circles, trying to get another kiss. Martha laughed again. She looked to her left, into a small, dark alley at the side of her. In the darkest part of the shadows she could just see the outline of a man. He was sat on the floor, his back up against the wall, with knees up to his chest. His whole body shook as he sobbed quietly, hiccupping occasionally. Martha approached him quietly and crouched down beside him.

"Hello? Are you alright?" She whispered. The man stopped shaking quite so much and looked up at her. He wore a smart suit and had short, light brown hair. His face was obscured by shadows. He shook his head. "Are you hurt? Do you need help?" Martha persisted. He shifted a little bit, and now Martha could see something else. He was clutching his hand tightly to his chest, but it looked metal and robotic. It stopped at the wrist so Martha guessed it was some kind of alien glove. She also guessed that that was the problem.

"No-one can help me" He whispered, tearfully.

"I've got a friend. He's called the Doctor, he can help you." She called back over her shoulder, "Doctor!" She yelled to the Time Lord, who had now wrestled Jack to the ground, and was now sitting cross-legged on the ex-Time Agent's stomach, leaning in so that their faces were almost touching, but not quite close enough for Jack to get his second smooch. Jack wriggled and squirmed but the Doctor was stubbornly refusing to fall off the other man's stomach. "Come 'ere, will ya!" She turned back to the man, his face still obscured by darkness. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn't quite place him. She heard the Doctor's footsteps behind her, felt his hand on her shoulder, stood up, nodded to both of them, then turned and started to make her way back to Jack, who the Doctor had managed to convince to get back onto the bench, leaving the two men alone.

* * *

The Doctor crouched down next to the man. He had bowed his head again, so now even his hair was obscured by shadows.

"I'm the Doctor. I can help you. Now, what's wrong?" He asked, gently placing a hand on the man's arm. Or he would have, but the man threw himself away from him before he made contact. He ran down the ally and further into the darkness. The Doctor stood and followed warily. He walked for a few meters, until the path came to a dead end. The man was standing with his back to the back wall. He stood straight, with one of his hands out in front of him, palm pointing at the Doctor's chest. Except it wasn't his hand. It was a metal glove that pulsed with a soft golden light. A beam of that same light shot out fro the glove's fingers and lassoed itself around the Doctor's torso. He couldn't breathe; the light was draining him of all his energy. He could almost see it travelling down the beam to be absorbed by the glove. He tried to move his arms, but they were pinned at the elbow by the light.

"Finally. I have you. I've waited so long for this"

The Doctor sank to his knees. His weakened legs couldn't support his weight. He struggled to think straight.

"Who...... Who are you?" He demanded, darkness clouding the corners of his vision.

"I thought the name of the pub was quite ironic. Don't you? "_The War Drums"_ Quite funny really!" He stepped further into the light, closing the gap between him and the Doctor, who was now struggling to stay conscious. A shaft of light from the street passed onto his face and the Doctor's eyes widened in realisation as the penny dropped with a nasty clang. He knew he couldn't hold out much longer, but maybe he could still warn them. He weakly raised his head, summoning energy that he knew would be gone in a few seconds.

"MARTHA, JACK, RUN! IT'S -!" He never got to finish. The clamp tightened even more, forcing the breath out of him, as the man pressed his face into the Doctor's.

"Ohhhhhhh. You shouldn't have done that, Doctor!" He growled menacingly.

* * *

Martha walked over to Jack. He was leaning on a wall, stroking one spot of it and chatting to a brick a bit above it.

"So, you, me, a moonlit walk on a sunny day, on a pool table with my tea boy and a cardboard box. Whaddya think Walda?" He was whispering. Martha sighed and pulled him away by the collar, forcing him to sit back down on the bench.

"I thought you could sober up when you wanted to?" She asked him, exasperated.

"I can. But maybe I just like being a tiny bit tipsy!" He said loudly, swaying where he sat. "I just need the proper motivation"

"MARTHA, JACK, RUN! IT'S -!" The Doctor's voice rang out across the deserted street, before he was cut off abruptly. Suddenly, Jack was sober (Ish)

"Motivation like that!" Jack finished. They both dashed to the entrance to the ally where the Doctor had cried out from. They were a few feet from the opening when something big and brown flew out of it. I t was the Doctor. There was what looked like a steel claw, glowing gold, producing fro the depths of the ally, out into the light-ish street, struck the Doctor in the chest and looped around his torso. The object threw him across the street and crashed against the wall on the other side. They ran over to him. He appeared to be only half conscious, but slowly pulling himself together. Jack pounded his fists against the object, but was shocked to find that his fists just passed straight through it. Martha put her hand to the Doctor's head. Her touch seemed to partially revive him. He opened his eyes blearily and tried to struggle against the restraint, but it failed to budge.

"Doctor, what's going on? What happened? Where's the other bloke? What is this?" Martha yelled, watching her hands pass through the glowing beam.

"No time" The Doctor groaned through gritted teeth, his head spinning after the impact with the wall. "You've got to get out of here. Quick while you can!" He insisted, his struggles slowing.

"No way Doc! Now, how does this thing come off?" Jack said sternly.

"He controls it......... Draining... me.............Can't ...............fight.................." The Doctor was fading, fast.

"Who's doing this? Doctor tell me!" Jack yelled in the Time Lord's face, trying desperately to keep him talking, keep him conscious, long enough to get him away from the danger.

"That would be me" Said a calm voice from the shadows. Jack had heard it before. It couldn't be him! He was dead! Jack had watched him die in the Doctor's arms aboard the Valliant.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" Jack yelled in that general direction, hoping his hunch was wrong. It wasn't.

The culprit stepped out into the open, his hand out in front of him, the gold light extending from the metal glove he wore.

"I am the Master. And now the Doctor," He indicated to the other Time Lord just with a movement of his eye, "Well, now he belongs to me!" He laughed and tightened the clamp around the Doctor's chest. The Doctor groaned in pain. Jack lost it. He charged at the Master, only to be pulled back at the last second by Martha. "Aww. So touching." He sneered. Suddenly, he moved his hand out to the side, dragging the Doctor with it. He smashed into Martha and Jack, sending them flying. They landed in a heap a few meters away. Another beam shot towards them and clamped them together, so tightly that Martha's face was almost embedded in Jack's chest. The Doctor landed on the ground, having what little breath he still had swiftly removed by the force of the impact. He was suddenly free. He could move! He had to stop the Master. Had to help Martha and Jack. He got to his feet shakily, swaying dangerously. His hearing was still fuzzy. He could just about hear frantic voices, yelling at him to run. Were they Martha and Jack? He couldn't tell. He hesitated for a moment too long. He suddenly felt the clamp around him again, and his strength disappeared as fast as it had come. He was being drained again, he couldn't fight it, it was too strong. He sank to his knees.

The Master walked over to his helpless prize, ignoring the shouts from behind him warning him to get away from the Doctor. He took a deep breath, preparing himself, as the Doctor looked up at him. The Master was delighted to see fear in his unfocussed eyes. He took the glove off and held it under his arm, maintaining mental contact, so that it continued to hold the two companions. He knelt down and placed his fingers on the Doctor's temples and entered his mind, sweeping away his mental defences as thought they were dried leaves. The Doctor screamed in agony as the Master probed deeper and deeper into his subconscious, looking, searching. He smiled, and established the link, as he'd originally planned. He effortlessly pushed away the Doctor's feeble efforts to stop him, as though he were a bulldozer against a small breeze. But then he spotted something else. He hadn't realised that the Doctor had kept it that deep, that guarded. The Master knew that he had one himself, but the two were so close that were almost brothers. This was interesting. He'd think about this. Then he swore. He realised he'd lost contact with the glove. The Doctor was in his power now so that didn't matter, but that meant that the humans were free. Damn. He felt himself wrenched back to his own body, and the Doctor's falling away from his grasp. But he wasn't finished! He still had work to do! He grunted as Jack shouldered him aside, pushing him to the ground and quickly restraining his hands behind his back, the glove flying a few meters away. No matter.

While Jack took care of the Master, Martha pulled the Doctor away from them. She laid him out on the ground, his head lolled to the side, his eyes closed.

"Doctor, come on wake up, please! Come on! Talk to me" She urged the unconscious Time Lord in front of her. She patted his cheek a few times, trying to wake him up. He half opened his eyes, silently staring straight ahead. His intelligent brown irises were somehow hidden behind a swirling, sparkling silver cloud. "What the Hell?" She gasped, jumping back "Jack! What the Hell is that?"

Jack forced the Master over, keeping the Time Lord's hands held firmly behind his back, preventing escape.

"What did you do to him?" Jack growled, forcing the Master to look straight at the Doctor's eyes.

"Ohhhhhhh, shiny!" The Master giggled, childishly "Should take him a while to get out of that mess!" He said, gleefully.

"What did you do to him you idiot?" Jack yelled in his face.

"Not much. I just completely isolated his mind from his body" He said slowly, as if stating the completely obvious.

"Undo it, now" Martha glared at him.

The Master smiled. "Only he can stop it. And since you stopped me before I was finished, I can't relieve him either" The Master sighed "Shame really. It could have been so useful."

"And why's that?" Jack asked, through gritted teeth.

"Well...... It was so easy to isolate his mind that I decided to take it a little bit further. I made it possible for me to impose the separation freely, without the need for physical contact, or even to be in the same room, and in turn, remove it. But you stopped me before I was finished. But unluckily for him, I did manage to establish a link between my mind and his, so I can still enforce the condition, but I have to wait for him to beat it every time. As I said, a shame really that you stopped me"

"Oh well I'm really very sorry, sir. Feel free to sue us, and take my Vortex Manipulator as compensation for the trouble we caused you today. Have a nice day sir." Jack said sweetly, trying not to throttle the man. "So what's that thing?" He nodded towards the glove, now lying motionless on the ground a few feet away, well out of the Master's reach.

The Master sighed. "It's from the planet Telekin. All of its inhabitants have an amazing psychic power. They all have a glove that they wear to amplify and control their powers. "That thing" as you called it, is one such glove, called an "Isomorphic Ability Controller", or and IAC for short. I managed to get hold of one and now I can use the power I have always had to my own ends." His mind strayed again to what he had found in the Doctor's subconscious, buried so deep down, yet yearning to break free, and smiled, as a plan began to form. He was snapped out of his thoughts as Martha's voice interrupted him.

"Well you can say goodbye to IAC then" Martha told him, glaring. She returned her attention to the Doctor. She took her jacket off and slid one hand underneath his head, gently lifting it so she could slide her jacket under it. The Doctor was still staring, his eyes half open and obscured by sparkling silver.

"Yes." Said the Master, answering her un-asked question, "He is still conscious. He can hear and see everything; he just can't do anything about it. That is, until he gets his head back on his shoulders" He laughed at his own joke. "It doesn't matter anyway" He closed his eyes and breathed deep, as though thoroughly bored with the whole situation.

"Why's that?" Martha asked, confused.

"Because the Doctor and I have some business to be attending to, so we'll be going now." The Master stated simply, a hard edge to his voice. He snapped his eyes open and the IAC jumped up from the ground, hovering a few feet in the air, its fingers tightening into a metal fist. Martha tried to move between the prone body of the Doctor and the IAC, but she found that she couldn't. She couldn't move her body from the neck down. She looked over at the Master and Jack, scared to see that Jack was frozen too, with the Master gently removing his arms from Jack's grip and walking towards the Doctor. Jack turned his head to follow the Master's progress.

"Don't you dare touch him Master. If you even try, I'll-"

"You'll what? Stare me to death?" The Master laughed. He crouched down next to the Doctor's head, with Martha stuck, frozen on the other side. She watched on in horror as the Master reached out and began stroking the Doctor's hair, before moving on to start stroking the side of his face, like Jack had done while he was drunk. Martha was scarred to see a lustful look in the Master's fiery eyes.

"I'll release you. I'll let you out." He whispered into the Doctor's ear, just loud enough for Martha to hear.

"Get away from him!" She growled, trying desperately to move her limbs, but to no avail.

"Umm, no!" He replied simply. He fished around in the Doctor's chest pocket and pulled out the Sonic Screwdriver, before placing it in his own pocket. He then moved on to his own pockets, pulling out a small silver box, its shiny surface covered in bright flashing buttons. He pressed some in a precise sequence. A few seconds later, a huge, jet-black 4x4 sped into the street. Martha thought that it was quite good that this was a pedestrian-only zone, otherwise a lot of people would have woken up in the morning to find a mess of flattened cars. It crashed through the bollards, sending them flying. It raced towards them, and skidded to a stop, turning at the same time to end up with the back facing them, the smell of burnt rubber in their nostrils and the sound of screeching breaks still ringing in their ears. The Master pressed another button and the boot opened, the door rising up with the hissing sound of powerful hydraulics. Jack glared at the Master, and the Master smiled back and giggled.

"Sorry, but we have to go. Deadlines and all that, you know what I mean." He smiled "Oh, and thanks for the compensation. You know, I think it'll really come in handy!" He laughed, waving the Vortex Manipulator at them, before pocketing it. Jack glared down at his wrist and was unsurprised, yet very worried, to see that it was bare. How'd he got hold of it without him noticing? He looked back and glared at the Master again, but the man simply smiled at him and winked, before adding in a mock-serious tone "You know, some of your memories really are quite fascinating, and others quite scary. You really should see someone about it. I'd book you in with the Doctor, but he's going to be quite busy for a while. I could pencil you in but don't hold your breath."

He bent down to the Doctor's head again, and smiled to himself. He slid his arms underneath the Doctor's and lifted him slightly, beginning to drag him towards the boot of the 4x4. The Doctor showed no resistance whatsoever, his head lolling on his chest, legs dragging behind him, arms dangling by his sides as the Master continued to drag his limp form across the ground. Martha watched on, silently, unable to believe what she was seeing. The Doctor had lost the fight, and there was nothing she could do to help him. It wasn't happening. It couldn't happen. The Doctor was unbeatable, invincible, unbreakable, and every other word that meant anything similar. Martha hadn't seen the Master since the time on the Valliant, when he had died in the Doctor's arms. Whatever the Master wanted to do with the Doctor, it couldn't be good. But the Doctor should have know that the Master was here, so how come he hadn't? How had the Master hidden himself?

"How did the Doctor not know you where here? And how come you're alive?" Martha shouted to him. He'd now dragged the Doctor all the way to the 4x4. She had to distract him, had to keep him occupied long enough to come up with a plan. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jack straining with his limbs, a vein throbbing in his neck with the effort he was using.

"Another little gift fro IAC. I can create a mental shield around my mind ad consciousness, enabling me to hide my identity from others." He answered, not even bothering to look at her. "As for dying, I stored my identity and a memory of my body in my ring. Luckily it wasn't burnt. It would have spoilt the design horribly. But it called out to anyone close by, ad when someone picked me up, I absorbed their life-energy, and used it to bring myself back to life and harnessed the remaining amount to alter their body and change it to look the way I wanted it, which just happened to be the way I previously looked." He gloated, but then broke off as he attempted the next stage of his task. He stood behind the Doctor and knotted his fingers together around the other Time Lord's chest, his arms still under the Doctor's and lifted him up with ease, using one leg to knee the Doctor's into the boot. After that was done, he lowered the top half of the Doctor's body down, making sure that his limp head was still facing the humans. His eyes stared at them, silently pleading with them to help him. Yet they were powerless to help themselves, let alone him. The Master reached in and began stroking the Doctor's hair again, almost lovingly, then stopping to attach a pair of alien looking handcuffs to the Doctor's wrist and to a section of the boot's wall. He then reached up, shutting the boot, trapping the helpless Doctor inside. He looked back at the humans, smiling.

"Got to go now. Places to be, personal stuff to sort" He turned back to the car and walked to the driver's door. The IAC hovered where it was for a few more seconds, before shooting backwards and through the passenger side rear window. The Master slammed the door, the sound echoing in the early morning. The car revved a few times, then shot away, the breaks screeching as it rounded the corner and disappeared, the tires actually smoking.

"Doctor!" Martha screamed, fighting to move. She was surprised when her legs suddenly decided to do as they were told. She stood up quickly, but the shock of the action made her newly re-found legs give way beneath her and she fell forwards onto her face. Jack reached her just in time to catch her. He looked over at the corner where the car had vanished, taking the Doctor with it.

"I think......... We're gonna need some help with this one" He said quietly.

* * *

**I'm so mean to that guy aren't I! Just don't kill me, and then I can tell you what the heck is going on inside my derranged imagination! (Only some of what's going on, not everything. I don't think you'd want to know everything. Most things tend to revolve around David Tennant and me............) Yeah, anyway! Review if you enjoyed.**

**Dose everyone else love those page-breaks too, I can't get enough of them, now I know how to put them in.**

**Reviewers get bananas!**


	2. A City in Wales?

**Sorry for the long wait again! I had some other stuff to do in "Real Life" Damn that reality, we could do so much if it would just disappear. We could write more then. I do have to warn you, there is implied "One Way" slash in this chapter, but not as bad as it will be later on.**

**Bearing in mind the comments from reddwarfaddict I have made some changes to the layout of this chapter, sorry to those who read it the way it was before, I now apreciate how hard it was after trying myself!! Sorry again!**

**Yay for DoctorWump!!!**

* * *

Collins was bored. He swung around in his swivelling chair, about the only thing keeping him sane. He spun around a few more times, the crossword on his lap. 17 across: _A city in Wales where "Aliens" are reported to have been sighted more frequently in the last few years._ By using other questions he had managed to assemble the letters: C_ _d_ff. He was stumped, utterly and completely. It was supposed to be his job to monitor the phones that UNIT had in its base and answer them in case of an emergency, except that there wasn't actually anyone phoning in to tell them that there was a major incident somewhere. There were maybe hundreds of phones on the desk in front of him, he had never bothered to count them, and he reasoned it would only make him more depressed. There was one that was closer then the others to his chair. That one was reserved for Torchwood. He didn't know why they bothered to have a separate one though. Torchwood never, ever rang in. It wasn't that there were no problems to report, they just always dealt with them themselves, as UNIT and Torchwood weren't the closest of friends. They acknowledged each other, and kept out of the others way when they were on important missions, but that was about the extent of their "relationship". Collins turned to face Stiles, the other officer in the room. He was in charge of monitoring all the CCTV in the city and trying to spot trouble before it got a chance to manifest into something ugly. "_How low has UNIT SUNK?" _Collins thought to himself, despairingly.

"Anything?" He asked Stiles half-heartedly.

"Apart from a load of drunks, a murder, and a depressed manic-depressive, axe-wielding psychopath, nothing at all" Stiles replied, sighing.

"Nothing here either" Collins said, returning his attention to the hundreds of telephones, wishing one of them would ring and signal the start of some terrifying adventure, filled with danger, cunning plans, daring rescues and a beautiful damsel in distress. But he wouldn't get his hopes up. The last time any of the phones had rung, it was a wrong number, and Collins had had to tell the 10-year-old caller that no, Ryan didn't live here and he couldn't come round to tea, and to please try and ring the correct number next time. The time before that, someone had tried to start ordering pizza, and the time before that, the only emergency had been that a species of alien that looked like flying Earth pigs had been seen gliding over London. However, the only consequence of this short visit was that one commonly used phrase had been erased from the countries vocabulary. "You know any cities in Wales?" He asked the back of Stiles' head.

"My brother lives in Wales you pilok!" Stiles replied gruffly, watching as a camera zoomed in on a lone fox as it started digging to the depths of a bin at the back of a restaurant.

"You know any beginning with-"Collins never got to finish his question. At that moment, all the lights dimmed only to be replaced with a flashing red light, almost exactly the same thing that happened in Deal or No Deal on the telly when the Banker rang. It was quite ironic that the effect also accompanied the ringing of a phone in the London base of the Unified Intelligence Task Force. The phone that was ringing was Torchwood's, each ring accompanied by a flash of red light. The two men looked at each other, Stiles abandoning his post to move behind Collins as the man swivelled in his chair to face the offending phone. The crossword and pen were gently deposited on the flattest section of desk available, completely forgotten. Collins cleared his throat nervously and picked up the receiver. "Sergeant Collins. UNIT Officer 4283796. State your intent." He waited nervously for a few seconds for a reply.

"Capt'n Jack Harkness. Head of Torchwood Three" Came the voice down the line.

Collins body suddenly became very heavy and rigid, and he began to sweat. "Torchwood Three, huh? Haven't heard from you guys for a while! What's been happening near you then?" He asked, trying to make polite conversation and mask his feelings of unease. It was true. Torchwood Three or any Torchwood hadn't contacted UNIT for donkey's years. So if they were contacting them now, it had to be something big. He was right.

"Bloody Torchwood!" Stiles muttered, stalking away, back to his cameras. "Using the emergency line to have a pointless chat with a half-brained idiot who doesn't even know the capital city of Wales!"

"Look!" Harkness' voice shouted down the phone. "We don't have time for this! We've got a big problem!" Collins and Stiles looked at each other, then at the phone and raising their eyebrows at it accusingly. "Don't give me those looks boys!" The captain said loudly, causing the officers to jump in shock.

"How did you-?" Stiles started.

"I know what UNIT is like! My friend has just been ambushed and kidnapped by a powerful idiot in a 4x4 so I don't have time to talk about your personality problems! Now, your officer there with the cameras on London. Check your monitors for a black 4x4 driving at speed around the centre." The Captain ordered.

Stiles shrugged in his chair, swivelled round to face his screens and began searching. Collins returned his attention to the phone which was currently bombarding his ears with the sound of Harkness whistling a tune that Collins recognised as a vague attempt at _"Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life" _

"So... This friend of yours? They pretty?" He asked, trying not to sound too interested.

"Yeah, they are" Came the short reply in the break in the whistling. A pretty girl had been taken and she was just waiting for Collins to come and rescue her in a daring kind of way that only hero's can normally pull of without looking like idiots. This could be his lucky day.

"Why'd this guy take her? Get revenge on you? On her? Why?" He probed. The whistling stopped abruptly.

"Sergeant." Harkness began sternly," One: The friend's a bloke. Two: The bloke's an alien. Three: The alien's the Doctor. Four: The Master took him. Five: Whatever he wants with the Doc, it can't be good, as they're enemies and I'm sure the Master will kill the Doctor if he gets half a chance so we need to hurry up. Six: Can you get a vehicle to pick us up? You can get our co-ordinates from the phone. And seven: Have you found anything yet?" He explained, stopping abruptly. Collins was just about to answer, no, when Stiles shouted out from the other side of the room.

"Got it!" He exclaimed excitedly, "Black Jeep. Travelling at 96mph. Definitely had some upgrades made to it: Tinted windows, better suspension, more powerful engine, judging by the sound and performance. Also has reinforced doors and windows, as well as what looks like a door to the boot that could withstand the blast from an atom bomb at close range. Basically it's got the lot." Stiles' words didn't exactly fill the listeners with confidence, all three of them.

"Where is it?" Came an unfamiliar female voice from the other end of the line, speaking for the first time.

"I'm sorry ma'am. That information is only for registered Torchwood or UNIT officers. Can I ask for your officer number or authorisation code? Or if you are a member of Torchwood?" Collins ventured. True, he hadn't asked Harkness for his number or code, but UNIT's database was crammed full of files on him that all members knew his name almost as well as their own, and the voice-recognition programme had confirmed his identity a few seconds after he talked the first time, so there was no doubt as to the captain's identity.

"No I am not a member of bloody Torchwood you idiot!" The female sounded angry. Collins had never been good with angry women. He had forgotten his sister's birthday once. The following events were burned into his memory forever now. He shuddered as he remembered the part with the ferret. The lobster came after that.

"Martha, shush! Let me handle this! That way we can find the Doctor quicker and sort this whole thing out!" Came Harkness' annoyed tones.

"Don't you tell me to shush Jack! I just want to find the Doctor and help get him back! I'm only trying to help, both you and him! And as for you SERGEANT, without me you have no idea who took the Doctor or what he may want him for, so you'd better tell me where he is or you'll have me to deal with!" Martha growled into Collins' ear. Collins could almost see the captain smiling. He gulped. Clearly Martha was one of those girls who were not to be crossed. He decided that it would be the wisest option to avoid answering Martha's demand, yet still remain on her good side.

"Transport should be with you momentarily." He reasoned that was the safest option. Stiles coughed deliberately at Collins' back, evidently annoyed at the girl coming to the base. Collins turned to face the other man. "_She sound's like she's got a temper to rival my mother's_" he mouthed to the other officer. Stiles pulled a face and shuddered.

"_Point taken!"_ He mouthed back. Collins swivelled back to speak down the phone.

"Transport is just round the corner. If you go with them they will bring you straight back to base within 20 minutes." He told the two on the other end of the line.

"That quick? They're here already?" Martha sounded amazed.

"Yeah, our guys are only a few seconds away. They're coming to get you now."

"If only the Doc hadn't disabled my teleport we would already be there" Jack sighed, as he remembered that the Master had it anyway. Why'd he want it? The he frowned. "Hang on! What're your guys doing in the centre of London at 5:00am, already in their vehicle? What, are they ordering pizza?" He scoffed. Collins groaned. Evidently Torchwood knew about the incident with the phones and the pizza ordering caller. How was another matter all together.

"Pizza!? Are you mad? Pizza? Whaddya take us for? We're way too sophisticated for pizza! Honestly! Anyway, at least we don't order our food using the name of our secret organisation unlike another one we both know." He smiled as Harkness promptly shut up. "We'll tell you everything regarding the Jeep when you get here. Over and out." Collins broke the connection.

"Wait!" Jack yelled, but Collins had already gone.

"Great" Martha groaned. She turned to see a large black van driving towards them. It stopped in front of them. "Actually great! They weren't joking!" She said, cheering up a little. The door slid tot he side. A young officer stood there, holding the door open. He looked a lot younger then the age that Martha had expected UNIT officers to be. She was about to say that he looked about the Doctor's age, and then she realised how stupid that sounded and promptly forgot it. She meant the Doctor's apparent age, sort of mid 30's ish, not 900 and whatever.

"Captain Harkness and Ms Martha? Hurry!" The young officer gestured. He stood aside to let them in. Jack and Martha climbed in and sat on the seats. Martha noticed the smell in the van and the bags on the floor opposite them, as the van set off at breakneck speed.

"What's that then?" She asked, pointing to the bags.

"Dinner." The driver replied gruffly, "Someone has to feed the troops, and that someone is us."

"Those guys back at base do love their fish 'n' chips!" Said the officer who'd opened the door for them "Sorry, Officer Adams" He shook their hands and went to sit next to the driver. Martha and Jack looked at each other, thinking where the Doctor was now. Martha leant her head and watched as the streets flashed by, and wondered.

* * *

The Master sped down the back streets of London. He was confident that the Doctor's companions weren't following. He checked the little monitor where the radio should be. It showed the Doctor in the boot, still handcuffed to the side. He smiled as he saw the Doctor was still fighting the effects of his partial mind control. He really was so feisty. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he shot around a sharp corner. He watched as the Doctor's limp body crashed against the side of the boot and then fell back to the centre. The Master was thinking. He knew the Doctor was strong, yet he also knew hoe to break him. He hurtled round another corner and watched as the Doctor was thrown again, hearing the following thump as his head connected with the side of the boot. He found his mind straying again to what he had found buried deep in the Doctor's mind. How could the Doctor imprison it for that long? It was so powerful, maybe even more so then his own. Surely he had been tempted once or twice? But obviously not, looking at his current situation. He shook himself out of his thoughts as he pulled into the courtyard of a deserted warehouse.

He stepped out, straightening his tie and jacket. He sauntered over to the boot and opened it, smiling happily at the captive it held inside. He took that handcuffs off the Doctor's wrist, putting them in his pocket. He then lifted the Doctor's torso until it was dangling precariously over the tall drop to the dirty ground, with his legs still inside. Then he let go. The Doctor's head hit the ground with a loud crack, but he didn't even blink. The Master leant down and rolled the Doctor's head over to the side, smiling at the blood now starting to flow from the wound, before dropping it again. He grabbed hold of the Doctor's legs and dragged him for a few meters, making sure he was pulled over the roughest and wettest parts he could see. He let go of the other Time Lord's legs, then quickly checked the Doctor's eyes. The silver cloud was almost completely gone, slowly fading away to nothing, it could only last a few minutes longer, maybe four at the most. He rushed to the car again, manoeuvring so that it was behind the Doctor, so that when he came to, he wouldn't be able to see it. Now all he had to do was wait for the fun to begin.

* * *

The Doctor blinked. Blinking. Blinking was good. His head hurt like Hell. He was lying on cold, hard, dirty, uneven ground. Three guesses as to who had "helped" him to get here, wherever here was. He also had no idea why he was here. He leant up onto his elbows and tried to look around. H is head exploded in pain and he sank back to his previous position. He rubbed that back of his head, and was surprised to find it was wet. He couldn't see any reason for it to wet, had it been raining? He brought his hand into his line of sight. Red. His hand wasn't normally red was it? Strawberries were red. Tomatoes were red. Books were red. Hang on, were books red or read? Or were they blue? His head hurt, all these complicated questions. Blood! That was it! That was it! Blood was red! Blood? He was bleeding? That was bad, wasn't it? He'd have to ask Martha. Martha was going to be a doctor. Doctor's knew a lot about blood. Where was Martha? He sat up, ignoring the nausea and pain that accompanied the action and looked around him.

The ground was dirty, almost like a demolition site. Crushed bricks and walls made up the ground he laid on, giving it a strong pink tinge. To his left was a huge warehouse, obviously abandoned. Most of the windows were missing, leaving only holes in the plain concrete wall. There were plants growing in all the visible cracks, giving it a look that suggested it was being used as a greenhouse by people who thought that plants were nocturnal, and therefore didn't need light at all, so had replaced all of the unneeded glass in a normal greenhouse with plain, dark, foreboding concrete. Bad taste. Other then the warehouse there was nothing in sight except for the tall buildings of modern London miles off into the horizon. Where was Jack? Jack always knew how to make a joke out of any and every situation. Mind you, so could the Doctor normally, though now he was stumped. He moved his blood-stained hand to avoid a particularly sharp bit of brick.

"Hello Doctor" Came a voice from behind him, causing him to jump. Unfortunately, his body didn't seem ready to perform quick or complex actions such as jumping in shock. His hands slipped from where they were behind his back, supporting him, so he fell backwards and managed to hit his head wound on the hard ground. He groaned, and turned his head to the side, trying to focus on the blurry, fuzzy images that his eyes were giving him to work with. The Master stood there, leaning on the bonnet of the 4x4, arms crossed, staring calmly at the pin-stripped heap in the dirt.

"Hello!" The Doctor replied cheerfully. He considered waving, but thought that his co-ordination and reflexes may not be quite up to it just yet.

"How's the head?" He asked unconcerned, as though starting polite conversation in a bar.

"Not so great really, no thanks to you of course." He groaned. He tried to move his legs to a position that from which he could spring energetically to his feet. His left leg shifted slightly, but that was it. Great.

"Yes well, sorry about that" He smiled, evidently not sorry at all. He walked slowly to stand beside the Doctor, his back to the Sun. The Doctor raised his hand to shield his eyes from the harsh light. He could only see the Master's silhouette, black against the bright light of the Sun in a clear blue sky. He didn't have a very good feeling about this.

"Any particular reason as to why I'm here?" He asked brightly, squinting at the Master's profile.

"Oh yes Doctor" The Master replied gleefully, but he didn't elaborate.

"And that reason would be?" He probed, stretching the last vowel.

"You'll find out soon enough. But first, Doctor, let's have some fun!" He declared. The following action found the Master's shoe embedded in the Doctor's stomach. The force of the impact sent the Doctor rolling for a few feet. When he stopped, he could only lay there and cough and splutter, trying to block out the pain. His body still hadn't recovered from the effects of the separation. He couldn't cope with it, his body wasn't ready. He tried to get up onto his hands and knees, but only half managed it before the Master kicked him again. He fell down onto his face, breathing in dust and dirt. The Master kept coming, kicking him again and again and again. Pain exploded repeatedly in the Doctor's abdomen, and he wasn't surprised to find that he could taste blood. He was gritting his teeth so hard trying not to cry out that he thought he must have severed his tongue in two. He could feel his shirt getting wetter and wetter as his blood soaked it, slowly spreading out from the epicentre of the Master's attack. He refused to cry out though, refused to give his tormenter the satisfaction. He could only grunt in pain every time the Master attacked him. He tried to brace himself for the next impact, squeezing his eyes shut tighter and re-gritting his teeth. But the pain didn't come.

He opened one eye, panting, and looked up at the Master's profile. The Master was staring at him. No he wasn't. He was staring at his own shoe. The Doctor looked at it two, opening his other eye to join the first. He had lost most of the feeling to his body now, from the stomach down at least. So it was a little surprise to see the Master's shoe covered in hid blood. The red liquid dripped from the surface of the shoe to the ground. They watched the progress of the blood, they watched it pooling at the Master's feet, watched it as it slowly got bigger and bigger, expanding until it joined noiselessly with another pool. A pool that was growing around the Doctor's abdomen. The two Time Lords looked down at the Doctor's stomach. The shirt covering it had a hole 20cm in diameter and the first 5cm of the material closest was soaked in red liquid. Through the hole, they could see the Doctor's skin. It was turning as pale as a glass of milk. Or it would have been if they could have seen it through the blood that was flowing freely out of the opening in the Doctor's skin. The Doctor stared at the latest problem for a few seconds before the pain hit. It was almost as the pain had decided to wait for the Doctor to see his affliction before suddenly manifesting in all its glory. The Doctor slowly moved both his hands to hug his wound, curling up into a tight ball soundlessly in slow motion.

The Master smiled, chuckling. He slowly turned his back on his prisoner and walked back to the 4x4. As he walked, he got out Jack's Vortex Manipulator and the Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver. It was time for a considerable number of upgrades. He leant back on the bonnet and fiddled for a few minutes, adding a few functions to the wrist strap. He got bored quickly though, any time not hurting the Doctor was time wasted. He placed the two items on the bonnet behind him as he watched the Doctor as he squirmed in agony on the ground and smiled, pleased with his achievements. He had captured the Doctor, when so many species had failed, and the Doctor was powerless. Most species in the Universe would give most of their organs to have the Doctor in a situation like this. Too bad for them. This was his time.

The Doctor couldn't get up, couldn't force himself to go through the pain that he knew would come if he tried. He could feel his blood soaking the sleeves of his coat. He curled up tighter, willing the pain to end. But it didn't. It kept coming, getting greater and greater each time. He couldn't move, couldn't block out the agony. He didn't care where the Master was now, didn't care what he was going to do with him. He didn't even care about how Martha and Jack were. All he cared about was the pain stopping, that he could get away from the feeling that was forcing its way throughout his whole body. But it didn't stop. He didn't know how long he lay there. It could have been hours, days, weeks, months, years even. But he knew it was probably just a few minutes at most really.

He only stopped focussing on the pain when he started to feel light-headed. Tired. He was so tired. He needed to sleep. Sleep cured everything. Sleep..... No. He couldn't go to sleep. He had to stay awake. He was passing out, not falling asleep. That was bad, and wouldn't help anything. Was it his blood? How much blood had he lost? He couldn't let himself pass out. Then all that would happen would be was that he was at the Master's mercy. Suddenly he felt the Master's foot on his neck, constricting his windpipe. He was aware that the squeaking sound he could hear was his own feeble attempt at breathing. Darkness was clouding his vision, slowly consuming him, dragging him down into its murky depths. If he sank, he wouldn't be in pain anymore. That sounded good. He was letting go of consciousness, he was finally sinking. Then the Master removed his foot from the Doctor's throat. He could breathe again. He wasn't being allowed to sink. He was being kept conscious. His vision was returning. He could hear the Master talking.

"Now, let's make you all better shall we?" He heard the Master whisper. He saw the Master snap his fingers and the IAC zoomed out of the 4x4 and onto the Master's outstretched hand. He smiled at the Doctor, not even looking as the IAC started glowing gold. Tiny spots of light surrounded the metal glove, pulsing around it like mosquitoes near a light bulb at night. The Master pointed at the Doctor's abdomen. The golden spots buzzed out and around the wound. The Doctor watched as the skin slowly stretched itself and the edges bonded together. The wound now looked as though it had never been there at all. Only a small scar remained, a long straight line of slightly raised skin, 20cm long, forming a ridge on the Doctor's stomach. It now looked as though the Doctor had simply poured a few bottles of tomato ketchup over his body. The spots evaporated into thin air as the Doctor slowly raised his fingers and ran one over the ridge, tracing the line and breathing deeply, trying to compose himself.

"Nanogenes!" He whispered in understanding, he was too weak to do much else. He realised that the Master must have programmed the little robots to only repair the flesh wound, not replace the blood he had lost. He felt the Master grab hold of the front of his suit and pull him clean off the ground, so his feet dangled in the air. He grasped feebly for the Master's wrists, so that he could pull his head straight, but the Master shrugged him off easily. The Master pressed his face so close to the Doctor's that their noses were touching. He bared his teeth, actually growling at the helpless Doctor. He grabbed the Doctor's hair, forcing his head backwards and receiving a cry of pain when he began to bite his neck viciously. He tried to push the Master away but he was too weak. The Master pushed violently, forcing the Doctor to lie flat on the bonnet, crushing his head wound on the shiny metal. The Doctor found his arms pinned, he couldn't move them, no matter how much he tried. He tried to turn his head away but the Master bit down on his lip hard, so unless he wanted to lose part of his mouth, he couldn't move that either. The Master bit harder still, drawing blood and licking it off quickly. He grabbed hold of the Doctor's hair again and yanked it back so hard that the Doctor's eyes nearly popped out of his head. The Master's tongue invaded the Doctor's mouth, forcing its way down his throat.

It was too much. The Doctor used all his willpower to scream out in anger and pain and forced his arms to move. He lashed out and struck the Master hard, his fist connecting with soft cheek flesh. The Master, caught by surprise, stumbled backwards, but managed to right himself. He looked furious, licking the last few drops of the Doctor's blood from his lips. The Doctor was still too weak to move much, his body slipped down the smooth metal and ended up in a heap on the ground. The Master walked up to him slowly, taking his time. He stood, towering over the Doctor, who raised his head weakly to look him in the eye, forever defiant. The Master's eyes burned with anger and contempt, but that wasn't what frightened the Doctor. What scared him was the emotion burning behind the eyes, burning even brighter then the fury. The feeling that told the Doctor that the Master had some very specific plans for him, plans that the Doctor did not feel the same enthusiasm to see the plans carried out. Lust. The Master wanted him, and they both knew it. However, only one was willing to comply with the Master's sick desires.

His face suddenly split into a smile so sinister that it chilled the Doctor to the bone and showed him exactly what he had feared about the Master's intentions. He bent down and reached out to grab onto the Doctor's tie, loosening it quickly and taking it off. The Master pulled the Doctor's face towards him, chuckling, seeing no reason to hide his desires. He began to re-tie the Doctor's tie, making a very robust gag out of the material. The Doctor was too weak, he couldn't fight.

"No" He whispered, trying desperately to remain defiant in the face of this evil intention. "No.....please......don't.....no..." The gag was tightened, so much so that the Doctor couldn't even open his mouth anymore.

"Yes Doctor" The Master whispered seductively into his ear. "I think you deserve a special treat for being such a good boy. Today's your lucky day my friend"

The Doctor felt IAC's power again; clamping his arms to his sides and lifting him clean off the ground. His body was limp and his head lolled, he just didn't have the energy, He lifted his head weakly, the Master was already halfway to the warehouse. He beckoned with one finger and the Doctor felt himself drifting in that direction, not that he wanted to. He couldn't struggle, he wasn't strong enough. It wasn't long before they were both inside the large metal doors. The Doctor took one last look at freedom behind him, getting further and further away each second. The Sun was up properly now, bathing the tranquil scene in a warm yellow glow. Birds twittered and butterflies fluttered everywhere. He would remember the scene when it started, maybe it would help him. The doors slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing across the deserted scene of peaceful tranquillity. It was a few seconds before the Doctor's scream disturbed the silence, but unlike the birds, that sound didn't stop.

* * *

**Can any of you guess the answer to the crossword? Banana's for those who can! **

**I really am so mean to the Doctor aren't I! But he doesn't complain! That may be because he's tied up in the other room though, that might be the problem. But I give him bananas, he's happy! Yeah, anyway................**

**Reviewers get bananas too! Come on you know you want to review, it's that little green/lilac button down there!**


	3. Survivor's Guilt

**Really sorry for the long wait. This was supposed to be up a week ago, but then I had to babysit, and I've been getting interrupted ever since. I was going to try to update earlier today, but when I was walking the dog I managed to lock myself out, and the only neighbour that has a key is on holiday!**

**OK, major news. From the 14th of August, I won't be here for two weeks. I'll be with four OAP'S! Great eh? *Dies silently* Oh well. But at least I'll have pleanty of time to write. I'm planning to if not finish, at least 3/4 finish this story, so that then all that needs to be done is for it to be typed up, so it shouldn't take too long after that. (But we've all heard that before, haven't we!)**

**This chapter, as I'm feeling sentimental for no apparent reason, is dedicated to the memory of my first pets, my three goldfish: Fishcake, Fishfinger and Cod. RIP........... SQUEE FOR SENTIMENTALITY!!!**

** That's enough with the bold font, I need to update now, I promised. On with the Doctor Wump, even though it's not so much in this chapter. Anyway.**

**On with the Ff:**

* * *

Martha and Jack climbed out of the van. They looked around them, seeing an underground car park of one of the many modern sky-scrapers that punctuated the London skyline. They followed Adams through security and into an elevator. Martha noticed that every single officer they passed, including Adams carried a gun. She realised it was probably a good thing that the Doctor wasn't here; otherwise he would probably be trying to confiscate them all at once. The elevator doors slid shut, and Martha, Jack and Adams began to ascend to the Control Room, as Adams called it. The music playing in the lift was the kind that one would expect to find in hotel elevators, not in UNIT HQ. Martha swayed backwards and forwards on her heel, looking around the mirrored walls. Her reflection stared back at her, looking very tired, her eyes looking longingly back into her own, begging herself to go to sleep. How long had it been since she'd last slept? Two days? She looked up at Jack. His face was set in grim determination, and Martha reckoned she knew exactly what- or rather: Who- he was thinking about.

The screen above the door showed the floors they were passing: 32, 33, 34, 35, 36.... How high up were they going? She looked round again. She thought that out of the three of them, Adams looked the calmest, although looking closer; she saw that his eyes were out of focus and he was staring at his reflection with frightening intensity. The lift 'dinged' to signal that their journey was complete. Floor 42. _"Ironic" _Martha thought, remembering her and the Doctor's time on board the S.S. Pentallian. The doors slid open and the three stepped out into the biggest room that Martha had ever seen. It looked exactly like one would imagine a NASA control room to look like in real life, and on a much larger scale then in one's imagination. Huge screens covered the back wall, most of them displaying images of the Master's 4x4 from different angles, speeding down a road. While Martha glared at the image, Jack stepped forward purposefully, clearly in his element.

"OK people, come on, come, on, what've we got? Let's get this operation going!" He yelled, clapping his hands enthusiastically to get people's attention. Not that it worked. Everyone in the room completely ignored him, too engrossed in their work. ".... As you were.... people...." He finished meekly, stepping back to join Martha, her tiredness now forgotten.

A woman marched up to them and gave them a brisk salute, which Jack and Adams returned, while Martha just waved, timidly, realizing that the Doctor's views were starting to rub off on her. She turned her head away, just slightly embarrassed. _Where was the Doctor? When were they going to start looking for him? _Jack sensed Martha's mood, and turned to the woman who had introduced herself as Captain Erisa Magumbo.

"I think that's enough of the formal introductions Captain Magumbo, can we please get on? We may not have much time." He ushered them all on.

"Harkness, we've been trying to trace your friend's kidnapper, but he seems to have planned ahead to thwart us at every turn." Magumbo snapped back. "We'll show you what we mean." She yelled out a few orders and almost immediately the biggest screen fuzzed and the 4x4 reappeared, driving along at tremendous speed. "These images were taken from a satellite a few hours ago" Magumbo continued, pointing to the car. Martha found her blood boiling as she looked at the vehicle which held her helpless friend. She looked towards the driver's window and was relieved to see that it was tinted. She thought that if she could see the Master she might lose what little composure she had left. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up into Jack's reassuring face.

"Cool it Marth." He said gently. Then he raised his voice. "But if we can see these images, surely we can see where he took the Doctor?"

"Well Captain, if you'd just continue watching, you'll see the problem."Magumbo said, with an air of annoyance. The clip continued to play for a few more seconds, the 4x4 reaching a roundabout. Just before it entered the road surrounding the roundabout, the words "_OH NO YOU DON'T_" suddenly appeared in bold red letters and a split second later, the picture faded to static. "Evidently he thought ahead. He's messed with all our satellites. Any time we try to use one to find your friend's abductor, we get the same result. Well, with all except one."

"What happens with that one?" Martha inquired.

"We get diverted to either the shopping channel or a suicide helpline. Maybe he thought we'd like to use it sometime." Magumbo answered, with no hint of humour.

"_Well we always knew the Master liked to joke around._" Martha thought.

"We're trying to think of other ways to track him down but it's very complicated and it's taking far too long. If you'll give us a few more hours, I'm confident we'll be able to come up with a strategy." Magumbo turned away, and then turned back again. "I don't suppose he has a mobile does he?" She asked hesitantly.

"You don't think we've already thought of that? Anyway, no, he doesn't. We keep trying to get him to buy one but he keeps forgetting, or so he tells us." Jack snapped.

"If we could, we would've already called him........." Martha tailed off, thinking.

"Worth a try!" Magumbo countered, shrugging. She turned away again and began to walk off.

"Oh... My ... God!" Martha whispered excitedly, hands flying to her mouth, eyes wide.

"What?" Jack exclaimed. Martha didn't answer. "Martha what is it?" Jack stood in front of her, hands on her shoulders, staring straight into her eyes. Martha lowered her hands from her mouth, silently staring at Jack. Magumbo had to lean in to catch the exchange that followed.

"He doesn't have a phone...." Martha said slowly.

"No....." Jack answered, even slower.

"But I do"

"Yeah....." Jack wasn't getting it.

"Miss Jones, pardon my language, but what the heck are you on about?" Magumbo was getting irritated.

"He doesn't have a phone!" Martha exclaimed.

"Yes, we got that much. But what's so amazing about you having a phone and him not?"

"He has my phone!" She almost shouted. There was silence.

"What?" Magumbo asked. "Why didn't you mention this before?"

"I only just remembered myself!" Martha countered.

"Why does he have your phone?" Jack asked her. Martha thought about it for a split second. Rescuing the Doctor was worth losing some blackmailing material, hands down.

"When you were drunk the Doctor videoed you on my phone trying to make out with inanimate objects, namely a tree with the Doctor's coat on it. After that you tried to snog him too, but you didn't get very far, sorry, but he just didn't let you." She admitted.

"You heard the lady! Let's go, go, go people!" Jack shouted to the room. There was suddenly a flurry of movement. Buttons being pressed and orders being shouted. "How far did I get with the Doc?" He whispered to Martha, very discreetly, yet not trying at all to hide his anticipation.

"You got one snog before he managed to get you off him. Then you chased him round in circles for a while before he sat on you. Then..." Martha broke off. She looked at the floor and walked away. Jack caught hold of her hand and she looked up into his face, tears threatening to spill down her own.

"Martha. It's not your fault. No-one could see this coming. Not even the Doctor." He tried to reassure her. Martha shook her head.

"It is my fault though. I was the one that asked him to go and help the Master. He wouldn't have gone over there if it wasn't for me."

"You didn't know it was the Master. None of us did. He was shielding himself from the Doctor. It wasn't your fault and you know it. You just feel guilty 'coz it happened. It's like survivor's guilt. You couldn't do anything about it and neither could I." Jack told her sternly, but somehow gently at the same time. Martha nodded, drying her eyes. Jack walked off to help with tracing Martha's phone, while Martha looked to the back wall, where the 4x4 had been a few minutes before.

"Just hold on Doctor. We're coming." She whispered. Jack looked over to her, and shook his head sadly, before turning away to help Adams.

* * *

The Doctor was vibrating. It woke him up. He opened his eyes, wincing as he saw his condition. Now that he could see it, it immediately began to double the amount of pain it was dealing him. He looked around. He was in a very dark room. The floor was damp and was dotted with puddles. Cobwebs and weeds were everywhere. One wall was piled high with wooden crates, most of which were rotting away He breathed deeply, trying to contain the moan of pain that wanted to escape. He moved his arms and was relieved to find that he wasn't tied. Not that it mattered much. He couldn't get away anyway. He was still vibrating. Why was he vibrating? He felt in his coat pocket where the strange sensation was originating from, reaching inside and pulling out a small phone. It was Martha's. "_Probably her family calling or something_" He thought, looking at the small screen: _Withheld Number._ "_Not her family then_." He pressed the button and raised the device to his ear, ignoring the pain in his arm.

"Martha Jones' phone" He croaked quietly.

"_Doctor!"_ Came the reply, sounding ecstatic. _"It's Jack. Are you-" _

"I'm sorry, Martha can't take your call right now. I'm sure that if you leave your name and number then she can call you back within 24 hours. Or if you'd like to leave a message I can relay it if it's left after the beep." He finished speaking, and then left a very realistic sounding _Beep_. There was a pause, in which the Doctor could hear the words "_He's lost his mind_" and "_Either it's a side-effect of that mind isolation thing, or the Master just hit him really hard. And I'm not sure which one sounds more likely_"

"_Doctor, are you OK?_" Martha's voice crackled into his ear.

"Yeah, not so great really." He groaned "You? Did he hurt you?"

"_Doc, we're fine. Listen; do you know where you are? We're tracking the phone but the Master's interfering with our equipment so it's gonna take a while. So do you know where you are?_" Jack stopped Martha from answering.

"No I don't. How could I? I was in a boot! I know it's a warehouse....... But that's about it." He tried to be helpful, but he knew he wasn't really.

"_Doc, you need to get out of there. We won't be able to get there until we know where _"there" _is, so it's gonna be a while, and we can't protect you from him. If you can get away from there and keep your head down at least he can't get to you._"

"Sorry Jack, no can-do." He sighed. "Anyway, who's 'we'?"

"_We're with UNIT. But Doc, why can't you get out?_"

"Ah! Good ol' UNIT! Who's in charge there now then?" The Doctor asked, avoiding Jack's question.

"_Captain Erisa Magumbo, sir._" Said an official sounding voice. He felt a shiver run up his spine and winced.

"You didn't just salute did you? Please tell me you didn't..."

"............. No sir." Said Magumbo slowly, sounding very guilty. The Doctor could almost see her lowering her arm from its raised position at her head. Jack cut off any further reply.

"_Doc, stop changing the subject. Why can't you get out?_" The Doctor didn't answer. "_You need to tell us. It could be really important. In fact, scratch that: It IS very important. So what's wrong?_" The Doctor remained silent for a few more seconds, choosing his words carefully.

"You can't actually see me can you?" He asked. "Oi! Magumbo! Can you establish a visual link with this phone and your computers? You should be able to use the camera on the phone to get the picture. I'm sure Martha wouldn't mind getting another upgrade, would you Martha?"

"_If it helps you then it's no problem_" Martha sounded happy to be able to do something.

Magumbo belted out a few commands and the main screen turned to static again. The Doctor held the phone away from him, pointing the camera at himself. The camera's dim light suddenly came on, without him doing anything, and he heard an excited cry of "_Visual Link Established!_" The Doctor smiled at the camera.

"Hello!" He said brightly. Then the smile faded from his face. He turned the camera around the room, so that everyone watching could get a good look at the situation he found himself in, focussing for a long time on the very hard metal door. He showed them the grey walls, the puddles all over the floor, the weeds, the pile of crates, and the lack of windows. Then before he changed his mind, he quickly turned it so that they got a full view of his problem, and heard a loud chorus of shocked gasps.

He could see it properly, they couldn't. He could feel it, they couldn't. What they could see and imagine was nothing compared to what it actually was. Martha backed off, her hands back at her mouth. Jack looked around the room, anywhere but the screen, watching the faces of the other people. Most of them were looking away too, others were staring, and other's still weren't looking at all, and didn't give any indication that that had looked in the first place, they were so absorbed in their computers. The Doctor's leg was jutting out at a very odd angle, clearly broken at the hip, glistening with half dried blood, which turned the brown pin-stripe trousers even darker. The Doctor waited for someone to say something.

"_Does it hurt?_" He heard Martha ask, almost hesitantly.

"Oh it's just dandy really. I don't even know why I brought it up really!" He answered brightly.

"_Why'd he do it?_" Jack growled.

"Probably to stop me getting away, knowing him." The Doctor reasoned.

"_Is that all he did to you?_" Martha asked hopefully.

"Yeah, though he's hinted at doing more..." The Doctor trailed off. Then he closed his eyes, listening intently.

"_So just stay out of trouble for a while, we can come and get you and sort his Time Lordship out._" Jack sounded very happy.

"Shhhhhh!" The Doctor snapped, still listening.

"_What is it?_"

"Shhhhhh!" He repeated. They could all hear it now: The steady rhythm of footsteps on a cold floor. "He's coming!" The Doctor quickly slid the phone away. It skittered across the floor, spraying a small amount of water whenever it cut across a puddle, before reaching the other side of the room, coming to rest in the shadows. The Doctor had calculated correctly. It had ended up facing away from him, and they all knew that he'd done it deliberately. All they could see was the wall, but they heard the heavy door grind open and the Master's cold voice.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Am I now not allowed to talk to myself?" The Doctor retorted.

"You were talking to someone"

"Yes. Me. You've always said I'm mad, and I'm just confirming it. Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, though from your perspective, I should probably be way past that by now! It's never been illegal before"

"It is now" The Master snarled. The next thing the control room heard was the Doctor's cry of pain and the many sounds of crashed and beatings. "You. Will. Not. Talk. Back. To. Me. Is that understood?" He growled. It was a few seconds before the Doctor answered. The whole company of listeners had their fingers crossed that he wouldn't say or do anything stupid.

"You know? I don't think you finished that anger management course I recommended for you did you?"

For the next few minutes all that could be heard were the Doctor's pained cries and of the Master beating him mercilessly. Then they heard the IAC unleashing its power and the Doctor crying out again.

"You asked for that one really Doctor" The Master sighed cruelly. They heard the Doctor crash into the wall, quite high up, so that meant that IAC had had a hold of him and thrown him. Then he fell into the pile of wooden crates. The pile more-or-less exploded, sending crates flying across the room. One of them hit the phone and sent it skittering across the room again, this time ending up facing the action. They saw the Doctor fall out of the pile just in front of them and lay still. His face was turned towards them, eyes closed, unmoving, and a new cut on his right temple slowly beginning to bleed down his face. They heard the Master chuckle softly, before the heavy door ground shut and the lock clanged, echoing across the dark room. All eyes turned to the Doctor's unconscious form.

* * *

"Doctor?" Martha asked, whispering hesitantly. There was no response. "Doctor?" She repeated, a little more forcefully. Nothing.

"Great!" Jack moaned. "Well.... At least the picture's still coming through!" He tried to sound cheerful. It didn't work. Martha looked up at him.

"What do we do now?"

"Exactly what we were doing before. We work on the phone and trace the location. We find the phone we find the Master. We find the Master we find the Doctor." He turned to Magumbo.

"You heard the Captain! Let's hurry up!" She shouted to the room. Martha still looked worried.

"The Doctor's strong. He's been in tougher situations then this and you know it. We both do. The only reason it's any different this time is because he's being held by one of his own people, and that he's got a lot of help." He smiled, indicating to the room around them, reassuring them both. They looked up at the screen, still showing the Doctor's still face. Martha turned back to him, her face set.

"Just..... Promise me we're going to get him out of there. Promise me we're going to get him somewhere safe."

"I promise, Martha Jones." Jack said, very seriously. Then his face broke into a big grin. "Come on! We might as well lend a hand. That way it'll happen quicker too!"

They began wandering round the room, offering help and fetching items whenever and wherever they were needed. It took Martha's mind off the trouble a little, but she couldn't shake it off entirely. It was another hour before anything happened at all.

Martha was getting some equipment and Jack was fiddling with a computer, trying to get a better result out of it when they heard it.

"He moved! I swear! I saw him move!" Someone shouted.

"I saw it too! He twitched!" Someone else agreed whole-heartedly.

Martha and Jack almost raced Time itself to get to stand in front of the screen first. The Doctor _was _moving. His brow was furrowing, as if he had a bad headache. He moaned and opened his eyes, blinking both rapidly and slowly in quick succession. He moaned again, starting to get onto his hands and knees. He looked around him, wincing as he moved his head. He wasn't completely surprised to find the side of his face slick with blood. Looking relieved, he spotted the phone, hearing Martha's voice calling to him. He grasped at the phone, his hand shaking horribly. He just missed it the first time, sending it sliding a few feet.

"Come on Doctor!" Martha pleaded with him. "You can get it! Just reach a little further!" She watched as he raised himself a little higher, groaning in pain and crawling slowly towards the tiny machine. He reached it this time, raising it to his ear, his arm still shaking.

"Ouch......" He groaned, croaking.

"Welcome back" Jack joked. The Doctor didn't laugh.

"You planning on getting here anytime soon?" He broke off again.

"We're trying but as I said it's gonna take a while. You need to get away! It's the only way to keep more-or-less safe! You need to-"Jack insisted, before the Doctor cut him off. He quickly placed his hand over the speaker and looking towards the door.

"Not again!" He whined. He slid the phone away again, this time making sure it was facing away. He lay back down on the floor and tried to appear as though he was still out cold. Then they heard the door open, though not very much. It sounded as though the Master was just checking in on his prize, being a little paranoid. Then he chuckled, and closed the door again. But this time, the lock didn't sound. This was the Doctor's chance! It seemed as though the Doctor knew it too. He waited a few seconds, then raised himself, reaching desperately for the phone. He grabbed hold of it, almost crying out as he moved his injured leg. Everyone listening held their breath, occasionally whispering words of encouragement. It was painfully slow, but the Doctor's leg was paining him more, every time he moved it he felt as though it was on fire. Slowly but surely, he made his way to the door, using the frame to pull himself onto his remaining foot. He looked around the corners of the corridor, quite relieved to find it was almost pitch-black. It would give him some cover. Almost agonizingly slowly, he began to creep into the darkness, looking for a way to freedom, and to safety.

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**Reviewers get banana's!! Woohoo!!**

**So remember those dates: 14th - 29th/30th. *I can't remember which day exactly that I get back in the country* So that's the reason why I'm not contacting anyone or updating. I'm just telling you this because otherwise you may all hate me, and I get worried when I don't hear from people for ages, so really I'm just being a bit paranoid! SQUEE FOR PARANOIA!! (NO Fi3fi3, not Confidence and Paranoia, just paranoia!)**


	4. Foreign Thoughts

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*This is not an A/N. The author was too ashamed of the long wait to put one in. But she hopes that you'll enjoy reading it and you can leave your message after the beep* (Beep)

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The corridor was in complete darkness. The Doctor clung to the doorframe, balancing precariously on his uninjured leg, looking for any sign that trouble was approaching. There was only silence. His leg felt as though it was on fire, ad the rest of him still hurt too. He hopped forward, dragging his leg behind him. Then he listened again. Nothing.

This was his chance. He pressed on, expecting to feel a strong grip on his shoulder at any moment. He was reminded horribly of another foreboding corridor, seeming impossibly far away now. The cooling tunnels on the Parallel world with Angela Price, or as he had known her then: Mrs. Moore. That corridor had been dark and cold too, and dangerous as well. Surrounded by Cybermen, knowing the Master was near, he couldn't quite decide which situation he preferred. But which ever he preferred, this was the one he was in, and he was stuck with it.

He had to stay calm, he thought, breathing deeply. He was going to be fine. Of course he was going to be fine, he was the Doctor, he was always fine, even if he wasn't. And anyway, even if he _really_ wasn't fine, he could always be alright. And he had Martha and Jack helping him, plus UNIT and all of their gadgets and gizmo's. He though for a moment if he should suggest they did a scan for alien tech, but Jack was there, and he knew that he'd never hear the end of it if he heard.

If it had been just Martha then he might have done, but having a past companion there who was forever teasing him about his lack of simple solutions convinced him otherwise, so he pushed that thought firmly to the back of his mind and promptly forgot about it. They were going to find him anyway. It was worth waiting a bit longer to be found if it kept his sense of pride intact. He was getting away anyway, and he could try to shield himself from the Master.

Everything was going to be fine.

Voices were coming from the phone in his hand. It was Martha, urging him on again. Though he would probably never admit it, he was glad she was there; a voice of kindness amongst a sea of malice and hatred. Good ol' Martha, keeping him going, showing him the right way, helping him crack the crossword puzzle he'd been stuck on, keeping his fingers out of the cookie jar... Well, actually she had caught him with his fingers in a jar of Marmalade on numerous occasions and chased him until they both collapsed with laughter.

That joke had lasted for days, in fact, they'd laughed about it only yesterday. Now he was skulking down a corridor with no idea where he was, or how he was going to get away. He really shouldn't be thinking about things like that at a time like this. Martha was talking to him again. He was slowly making progress, but it was hard work, and painful. His leg was causing him agony every time he hopped forward. He knew he was probably leaving a trail of blood which could easily be followed, but he didn't care and was trying not to think about it. He was getting there, he was getting there, he was going to get there.

"Oh Doctor?! Where are you?" The Master's voice echoed loudly in the dark corridors. The Doctor froze, hearing both the Master and the gasps from the UNIT control room. The Master was behind him, he was sure of it.

"_Doctor?_" Martha whispered to him, fearfully. "_Doctor, where is he?_" The Doctor didn't reply, he had completely frozen, and was starting to shake, but he was trying to hide it. He shakily turned his head to look over his shoulder, making sure that the camera couldn't see anything. His vision was slightly blurry, and he had the overwhelming feeling that he should give up before he really made things bad for himself, but he squashed that thought. The corridor was still and dark; and lifeless. The Master wasn't there, he still had a chance. Trying to pick up the pace, he turned and hobbled away, clutching the phone tightly to his chest.

* * *

The Master was happy. That in itself would never be a good for anyone else, but it was very good for him. What surprised him was that it was the Doctor that was making him happy. Normally, if the Doctor was around, then the Master would grumpy, irritable and manic, because, even if he hoped he was wrong, he knew his time was almost certainly up. But now, he was whistling as he skipped down the dark corridor, all because the Doctor existed, and was very, very near.

It had only just sunk in that he had done it, that where so many species in so many Galaxies had failed, he had succeeded. He had done what most species would give all of another person's organs to have the Doctor in their grasp, and he'd only had to kidnap him, and no surgery was needed, and now he had the Doctor at his mercy. But then he remembered that he didn't actually have any mercy.

The Doctor could not escape. , it was completely illogical and would only cause him unnecessary pain. The again, no pain the Doctor experienced would ever be unnecessary, he deserved every bit he was dealt, whether it was dealt by the Master or not. He would deserve every little pinprick, every scratch, every broken limb. He would deserve it if his body were forced to tear itself apart. Ooooh. That was quite good. He'd have to think about that.

But now he had more important matters to attend to. He was almost certain that the Doctor's pets couldn't find them, and it was well known throughout the Galaxies that the Doctor never carried any kind of communications device, so he had no hope of communicating getting through to anyone. And he was out cold anyway, the Master had seen to that himself. Everything was going so well.

He came to an abrupt halt. The Doctor's cell was just down the corridor, and the Master was standing at a junction in the corridor, just a few meters from the heavy door. There was noise coming from it. That shouldn't happen. He leant on the wall, inclining his head to try to identify the offending object, feeling the reassuring coldness of the IAC in his pocket.

The Doctor was murmuring, groaning in pain, dragging himself across the dirty floor. It was the Doctor who was making all the noise. Granted, if the person listening didn't have the keen hearing of a Time Lord, they wouldn't be able to hear it, but to the Master, superior as he was, it was obvious that he was moving around.

"Ouch........... You planning on getting here any time soon?" Who was the Doctor talking to, and how was he talking to them in the first place? This was going to make things interesting. For a while anyway. Time to have some fun. He started walking again, this time making his footfalls sound loud and clear, but not as though it was on purpose. He'd play along for a while; he'd play the Doctor's game. The Doctor got the obviously message, and the Master heard him groan "Not again!" and suddenly fall silent.

Opening the door and looking inside, the Master had to fight the urge to start yelling that his game was up, but forced himself to stay calm, allowing himself to chuckle childishly. The Doctor had moved a few feet from where the Master had left him, and was apparently trying to appear unconscious. He would have been convincing, if the Master had not been the Master, which the Master was, and, to the Master, it was a very obvious attempt at fooling him, which it was, and if the Master had not been the Master, which the Master was, he may well have been fooled. But the Master was the Master, and therefore, was not to be deceived by such futile actions. **(I COULD HAVE CARRIED ON LIKE THAT FOREVER, BUT I CONFUSED MYSELF, SO NEVER MIND THAT SENTANCE.)**

Squinting around, the Master peered into the darkness that was the Doctor's cell, trying to see how the Doctor was communicating with his pets. Then he saw it. The tiny light, right up against the wall, linking him to the outside world. A phone? Why the Hell did he have a phone? Had he lost his mind, or was it that he'd bought a mind second-hand? Evidently not, or he'd have used the power at his disposal for something more then just being an obedient slave to the whole of the Human race, and would have ruled over them instead. He wouldn't have sealed it away, never to see the light of day.

Soon the Doctor wouldn't have that handy little device any more, when he moved onto stage three, then it would all be over. The Master giggled as he considered the next part of the game. He had already taken the King, but the game was still going. The Queen was still fighting and the Bishop..... No, he most defiantly was not a bishop, he'd have to be a Rook instead, would Handsome Jack. Well anyway, they were still going to keep going, and they had UNIT playing the part of the Pawns now, he'd thwarted their futile attempts to access their satellites himself.

He shut the door again, and was going to lock it again, when he suddenly he stopped himself. Why should he deny the Doctor one last glimpse of hope? He walked down the corridor again, back to where he'd first heard the Doctor apparently talking to himself, without locking the door, then hid in the shadows.

It would only be a matter of time. And he was right. It didn't take long for the door to open and the Doctor to come limping out, clinging to the doorframe as though his life depended on it. The Doctor looked around him, as if he suspected the Master had left the door open on purpose, clutching at the phone in his hand. Foolish idiot. It took all the Master's self control not to leap out at him, but he kept himself quiet, pressed into the darkness. A few seconds passed, and he pressed on, keeping a few feet behind the Doctor. This was too easy. The Doctor was walking so slowly, having to hold himself up using the surrounding walls that a snail could've over taken him.

As quietly as possible, he took the IAC out of his pocket and slipped it onto his hand. The lights on it glowed brightly and started flashing, delighted to be able to exert its power again. The Master shushed it and the lights dimmed, they didn't want the Doctor knowing he was being followed. Or did they? He smirked. Pointing the IAC at the Doctor's head, he slowly began pressing at the sides of the Doctor's mind, not much, just enough to influence him. Increasing the power slightly, he allowed himself access to the surface of his consciousness, without the Doctor even realising he was there. He sent a powerful urge into the Doctor, to give up, to save himself from the pain that would come if he was caught, and was delighted when the Doctor instantly squashed it and sent it to the back of his mind, where it was immediately forgotten. That was good, the Master liked to prolong the hunt, prolong his victim's suffering.

"Oh Doctor?! Where are you?" He called, making his voice sound far off and echoey. The Doctor stopped dead, shaking slightly. He turned his head to look back at the way he'd come, straight at the Master. Luckily, the IAC still had a hold on his mind, and the Master made sure that even if he'd stood right in front of the Doctor, he wouldn't have known he was there even if he'd hit him in the face. Just a little bit of blurry vision should do it. The Doctor looked right at him, his eyes almost scarily glazed and unfocused, looking through him, unseeing. The Doctor sighed in relief, and continued along, picking up his pace a bit, so now the snails would have to jog to overtake him. The IAC was planting ideas in his head, the right way to go, to get to the outside, but not to show the camera anything that was happening, that way it would take them just that little bit longer to find him.

Corridor after corridor came and went, and the Master had to admit, he admired the Doctor's spirit. He just kept going, on and on. The Master had increased the amount of pain his leg was dealing him, but apart from slowing him down a bit, the Doctor appeared to shrug it off. Sweat was pouring down the Doctor's brow, and he was starting to groan with every movement, something which those on the phone had obviously picked up.

The Master could hear voices coming from the small device, urging him on. However fun it was to see the Doctor in pain, the whole "follow him 'till he gets out" was getting a bit old. The Master wanted to have some more fun, fun that only the Doctor could give him. It was time for action. Tiptoeing right up behind the Doctor's back and pointing the IAC at his head again, the Master closed his eyes, concentrating hard on the other Time Lord's thoughts.

The Doctor suddenly went rigid, the phone still clutched tightly to his chest, his glazed eyes wide and staring. The girl's voice came through the phone, asking what was wrong, sounding very worried, and rightly so. The Master pushed his thoughts in front of the Doctor's, momentarily taking control. _You need to get out. He could come and get you any minute. Hurry up! _That should do it. The Doctor never took that much persuading. But he had to take care of the girl.

"I'm fine. It's nothing." The Master said through the Doctor's mouth. That should shut her up. The Doctor was re-surfacing again, and quickly. The Master retreated from his mind a way, so he still had a hold, but the Doctor couldn't detect him. The moment the Doctor had control of his body again, he swayed dangerously, almost falling onto the Master, who had to jump back to avoid his wildly flailing arm, the one still clutching at the phone. He ducked quickly, dropping to a press-up position on the floor to avoid the camera, the IAC making a nasty clanging sound as it made contact with the cold concrete.

They didn't see him. Quietly as he could, he stood up again, watching as the Doctor stood, clutching at his head, moaning in pain. Then it seemed that the thought the Master placed in his head suddenly began to take effect. The Doctor hurried up, rushing towards the door at the end of the corridor, the last one before he was "free".

* * *

The Doctor swayed on his feet, suddenly feeling very dizzy. He was falling; he waved the arm that wasn't attached to the nearest wall manically, trying to keep his balance. What was that? Clutching at his head, he tried to remember, but his mind was blank, and strangely unresponsive, almost like it was sleeping, or sleepwalking.... Oh well. It was probably nothing. He could smell freedom. That door just up there, seeming impossibly far away, even though it could only be a few meters. Freedom. He stood up as straight as he could as a powerful thought came to mind. _You need to get out. He could come and get me any minute. Hurry up! _At least one part of his mind was working, even if the thought sounded strangely forced. He was almost there, another few steps and he would be free. He really should give up now though..... Huh? Where'd that thought come from. Something wasn't right. What was it?

Now that he thought about it, there was a lot of weird things happening with his head. Blurry vision, sudden headaches, dizziness, forced thoughts...... That was it! Forced thoughts! Those thoughts weren't his own! Someone was putting them inside his mind, and he didn't even need half a guess as to who it was. He shook his head violently, clutching at his temples, forcing those foreign thoughts away. Martha was gasping on the other end of the line, watching as he started smashing his head against the wall, trying to break the Master's hold on him.

He was winning. But the Master wasn't going to give up so easily. He heard him swearing in Gallifrean close behind him, realising that the Doctor was breaking free. The Master leapt onto him, pinning him to the wall, trying to reach the Doctor's head. He still had IAC, the Doctor knew, that meant that if he let the Master get to him, there was no way that he'd be able to break free again. Jack was swearing over the phone, yelling at the Master, and threatening him with most of the curses under quite a few Sun's. The Doctor cried out as the Master latched onto his hair, pulling his head back, trying to get a grip on his thoughts.

The Doctor pushed out, tripping the Master up and pushing him over and away. The Master fell, and the Doctor jumped over him, running for the exit as well as he could with only one leg. Rain fell on the outside of the door as the Doctor reached it, grasping the handle down and rushing out into the day. Drops of water fell onto his face and hair and down his shirt, soaking him immediately.

But there wasn't time to stop. He rushed on anyway, heading into a small wood ahead of him. He slipped on the slimy mud beneath his good foot but managed to stay upright, somehow. He supposed that hanging around with Olympic gymnastic champions must've taught him something after all.

He couldn't get away, he realised as the trees closed in around him, but maybe he could hide until he was picked up. The trees grew so tall that they offered a little protection from the rain, but not much. He darted around the different trunks, trying to locate a suitable place to ride out the bad situations that had arisen. He looked to the phone in his hand, seeing everyone staring at his face, pleading with everything around them to keep him safe.

"Sorry" He said, before slipping the phone out of his hand.

* * *

Martha gasped as the phone slipped form the Doctor's hand and fell down, down, down, the surrounding's getting darker and darker until they could only see complete darkness. The camera juddered as it obviously hit the bottom. Martha jumped up, alarmed.

"What'd he do? Where's he gone? Where's the phone?" She was almost hysterical. She'd almost had to have been sedated when the Master attacked the Doctor in the corridor, but she'd given everyone such a look that she'd even scared Magumbo off.

Jack jumped up and held her by the shoulders, trying to keep her calm.

"It appears" he said gently "that we're inside the Doctor's pocket. My God how much stuff does that alien keep in there?"

The world out of the screen was suddenly turned upside down, and then a series of alarming angles as the Doctor apparently tried to get into a confined space in a tree trunk or something. They could hear him groaning in pain and discomfort every few seconds as his leg caused him strife. He could deal with it. As Jack said, he's been in worse scrapes then this and he almost always came out smiling.

This continued for a few minutes, before it suddenly stopped, and all that could be heard was the Doctor's heavy breathing. A hand suddenly appeared out of no-where and grabbed at them, the dirty fingers closing around them and lifting them up out of the darkness. The Doctor's face greeted them, trying to smile but failing miserably, before finally seeming to give up the ghost almost entirely, closing his eyes and laying his head down on his arms, which he was laying down on, and under that was.. a branch? That was when they noticed that the world outside the camera seemed a lot further away then it had before they had plunged into his pocket. He had climbed a tree? It seemed logical. The rain was still falling heavily, but the Doctor seemed to pay it no heed, letting it fall onto him. He looked exhausted, breathing deeply as if trying to control his pain.

"Where's my lickle Doctie-Wocktie?" The Master called mockingly, and the Doctor stiffened, slowly raising his head to look down at the world below. The Master skipped through the fallen leaves, chuckling happily as though on an Easter-Egg hunt. He kept calling. "You can't hide forever you know! I'll find you! You'll come crawling back to me, like the dog you are Doctor!" But soon he moved off, skipping away among the trunks and his mocking calls faded away. The Doctor visibly relaxed, laying his head on his hands again.

Back in the control room, everyone jumped as a machine behind them bleeped noisily. Jack rushed over to it, and a wide smile spread across his face.

"Doc! We've got you! You're exactly 45.7 miles west of London!" He ran up to the screen, the Doctor was looking at them, looking pleased, but completely exhausted. He smiled, properly this time, then let his head drop onto his arm again, eyes closed.

For a few seconds anyway.

The next second, the Doctor had gone rigid again, as the Master's hands appeared again and clamped onto his temples, gaining full access to the Doctor's mind. His eyes widened in pain and shock, his breath catching in his chest as the Master took control. Martha screamed in anger and horror as the phone dropped from the Doctor's nerveless fingers and fell to the forest floor below. They saw as the Doctor dropped from the branch like a stone and landed heavily next to them, unmoving again.

The Master appeared beside them, bent down, and picked them up, smiling cheerily at them.

"You really think you can stop me?" He gloated "I am far superior to all of you stupid, pathetic little apes."

"We're coming Master!" Martha shouted, having to be physically restrained to stop her from striking the screen. "We'll get there soon, and we'll get him back and sort you out. D'you hear me?!" she screamed.

The Master laughed.

"Whatever you say. But I'm about to see to it that he'll never see you again, of course, if that's alright with him." He glanced over at the Doctor, who still lay where he had fallen. "Well, he doesn't seem to mind very much, probably glad to be rid of you, I'd say. I don't know how he stands the sight of your species, I really don't. Goodbye." He finished, smiling. Then he crushed the phone in his fingers.

Jack and Martha ran to the door.

"What're we waiting for? Let's go already?" Jack yelled to Magumbo. Less then a minute later, they were in the helicopter and speeding towards the Doctor.

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**By the way, I've got a little poll for all you peeps out there still reading this stuff: Who out there can find a FanFiction profile that's longer then mine? If so, whose is it? I need to congratulate them. If you have a look at my profile you'll see what I mean, and while you're there, you can check out all my other fic's, they're under the section: My stories, right at the top. Have a look and tell me what you think?**

**Reviewers get banana's!**


	5. Does the RSPCA cover Time Lords?

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Dedicated to the Mighty Noofle, who put up with my logic! ;)

**I would just like to point out, that I am NOT a patient in a mental asylum, I just live in a room there with rubber wallpaper!**

**(If you don't know who Harry is, you need to read The Doctor Plus Coffee Equals Chaos, then it'll all make sense.)**

**I meant to post this yesterday, but I needed to go and collapse into bed, so sorry about that! Please don't kill me!**

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The helicopter blades whirred loudly above their heads. Martha gripped her harness tightly, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about what the Master had said, about the Doctor going to a better place.

She mentally shook herself. There was no point in worrying, they were on their way, and the Master's time was almost up. UNIT had taken measures to see to that, and as she looked around her, she was reassured by the presence of maybe 40 armed soldiers, and of course Jack too. There was also a medical team tucked into the corner; after seeing the state the Doctor was in, and watching him fall from the tree too, Martha and Jack had thought it best that they were able to administer medical attention on site.

The helicopter juddered roughly, apparently having a little difficulty with some turbulence, but no-one paid it any heed, everyone staring at the ceiling stonily. Jack, however, was staring at herm seemingly lost in thought, He blinked, and came back to the real world, his eyes meeting hers, before smiling encouragingly at her. His face may have said one thing, but his said something different. They spoke of his fear for the Doctor, his anxiousness and of the anger he was trying so desperately to hide.

Martha averted her gaze, focussing instead on her harness, but her mind was still elsewhere. The Master had the Doctor, he'd hurt him. Nothing else mattered. Whatever the Master had done to her friend, he would pay. He had no right, and only wanted revenge. The Doctor had been the Master's prisoner on the Valiant for a whole year, and had still emerged victorious, triumphing over the Master and saving the Earth again, he'd done it countless times before, and he would do it again.

The Master would fall, and they would prevail. They would rise to the challenge and beat the Master at his own game. Oh yes, the Master would pay. Martha's hands clenched tightly in to fists, squeezing the handles of her harness, her knuckles turning white.

The Master would never win, and Martha would make sure of it.

* * *

Jack was watching Martha. She'd slowly been getting angrier since the Doctor had been taken. Not to say that he didn't blame her, but he'd had a lot more practice, and was better at handling it as a result. To tell the truth, he was getting worried about her; her anger was just getting stronger and stronger, bubbling up inside her, and she was just bottling it all up, keeping it to herself. Martha was strong, that was why the Doctor chose her; but if she kept bottling up her anger, Jack wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep it in check, or if the bottle would break. Martha was strong, he reminded himself again, the strongest bottle of the lot, she wasn't going to break.

Then he saw her white knuckles, intent on strangling her harness, and the Master, and suddenly, he wasn't so sure.

* * *

The Doctor forced his eyes open, blinking to clear the fuzziness that surrounded him. Looking around, he saw that he was still in the warehouse, in fact, it was the same room as he was put in before. The Master must've dragged him in here after he'd fallen from the tree. Chains cut into his wrists and ankles, keeping him suspended, trapped between ceiling and floor. Tied up and down at the same time. Not good. He shivered as the cold air made contact with his bare chest. Tied up and down AND half naked too! Whatever was coming, it wasn't going to be fun.

He breathed deeply, preparing himself, his breath rising in a mist before him and disappearing. The chains swung him slightly, swaying him from side to side. He was being stretched, he couldn't touch the floor, and the chains round his ankles prevented him from swinging more then an inch in any way. Basically he was stuck, well and truly.

He could see his long brown trench coat thrown unceremoniously onto the crates in the corner, his blood still staining most of it. Hopefully Harry was OK, the hamster lived in one of the pockets and was probably scared stiff.

Suddenly, the heavy metal door was flung open and the Master strolled in, as if a tiny piece of flimsy tin could've kept him out anyway!

He smiled at the Doctor, walking over until their noses were almost touching, holding his captive's face in his hands and caressing his cheek. The Doctor jerked his head back, wanting to be as far away from the Master as possible. Big mistake. The Master's eyes narrowed to slits.

"No, now my dear Doctor," He purred quietly, "I suggest you do what your Master wants. Otherwise I can't guarantee the safety of your friend."

"My friend?" The Doctor asked, his voice shaking, wondering who it was. Jack and Martha were on the way, he didn't really know anyone else other then Rose........ Rose. She was trapped on a parallel world, and he was never going to see her again. His hearts fell as he thought about her, but his face remained passive. Now was not the time for remembering lost friends

"Your friend" The Master confirmed, opening his jacket, and pulling out a quivering ball of fluff.

"Harry?!" The tiny hamster was shaking, frozen to the spot with fear, trapped on the Master's palm. "Harry run! Get away!" The Doctor urged the tiny animal. Harry looked up at him with wide black eyes, searching for reassurance. He didn't find any.

"Are you going to behave, Doctor?" The Master asked his prisoner, knowingly, squeezing the hamster just enough for him to emit a high pitched squeak of pain.

"Just let him go. He's done nothing to you. You've got me, and that's what you wanted. You don't need him." He tried to reason with the Master, hoping he'd see sense.

There was a pause.

"You're right, Doctor."The Master said, finally, still smiling knowingly at the Doctor "I don't need him" Then he balled his hand into a fist, almost crushing Harry in his strong fingers, the hamster screaming out in pain.

"Master!" The Doctor shouted, desperate to stop the Master from killing the mammal. "Please stop!" He begged.

"Am I your Master?" Came the reply, somehow even louder then Harry's cries. "Am I?" He bellowed.

Harry was getting quieter, and the Doctor couldn't bear the thought of the hamster dying.

"Yes!" He yelled. "Yes, you win! Just let him go!" The Doctor begged. Harry's screams ceased, the Master inspecting the fur ball in his now open hand. The hamster twitched, he was still alive. The Doctor sighed, relieved.

"Good boy." Praised the Master, condescendingly, "That wasn't too difficult now, was it?"

Then he flung Harry across the room and the hamster was lost to the darkness. They heard him crash heavily into the crates near the Doctor's coat, and then there was silence.

"Harry?" No reply. The Doctor glared at the Master. "We had a deal."

But the Master only chuckled. "I don't do deals with slaves. You aren't worthy of my word."

He leant forwards, his face so close to the Doctor's that he could see his face reflected in those deep brown eyes. The Doctor glared, wishing that Martha and Jack would hurry up so that he'd be able to recover and check on Harry. Physically, he knew that he couldn't stand up to the Master, not after what he'd done to him, but he could still fight a battle of wills.

"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" If he could keep him talking, maybe he could give the other time to arrive.

The Master was currently stalking around somewhere behind him, out of his field of vision, and making the Doctor feel very nervous.

There was a pause.

"I would've thought it obvious Doctor." Suddenly, the Doctor's hair was grabbed from behind, and his head torn backwards, his neck screaming in protest. He whimpered. "I want you to suffer. I want you to hurt. I want you to pay for every single time you've ruined my plans. I want-"

"Sorry. Can't pay you right now, I'm skint. I seem to have left my wallet in the other suit. I'll give you an IOU, but apart from that I can't really-"He was silenced by a painful blow to the head.

The Master carried on, undeterred.

"I want you to admit that I win, that the Master is your Master. " He paused, allowing emotion to slip into his voice. He began shouting loudly in the Doctor's ear, not caring about anything else. "I've always been better then you! Even when we were at the Academy together, you knew even then, following me around, thinking we were friends. You were pathetic then too, maybe even more so then you are now. "He snorted loudly" And I didn't even think that was possible. How wrong I was. Normally I don't like to admit that I've been wrong, but here I am doing exactly that, and happily too."

The Master paused, walking in front of the Doctor, studying him scrupulously, tilting his prisoner's head from side to side, much to the Doctor's discomfort. He moaned at his tormenter, trying to pull away, but failing in the Master's grip. Eventually he sagged, letting the Master examine him, though he didn't know why he was being examined in the first place.

"It's strange." He mused, still studying the Doctor's face. "Our people were always so peaceful. They abhorred violence, preferring to stand and watch as other species destroyed themselves through war after war after war. Time Lords always thought them so trivial, those races plagued by death, while even the most puny and worthless of creatures on Gallifrey managed to survive somehow. Then there was the Time War, and the Time Lords all died, taking all those other species with them. Now there are only two of us left. We could be _gods_; the power you and I possess is ours to command and conquer all other inferior races, rebuild the Universe in our image. Well.... Mine at least; you're too spineless to even attempt something like that."

"But why even _contemplate "_something like that"?"

"Because it's fun!" The Master laughed. "But you: You're too much of a coward to take what you would have, what's rightfully yours. I on the other hand-" He broke off as the Doctor laughed heartily. "Share the joke, Doctor?"

"You call me a coward..... but you were the one who ran from the Time War. You were the one who abandoned Gallifrey! You were the one who hid as a human, the species you despise most, for Rassilon knows how long-"

"You changed yourself because four insane stupid creatures wanted to consume you and live forever!" He paused again. "You could've killed them so easily, made them die horrible, painful deaths, but you chose to be _kind_, to run and hide like the coward you are. At least I had a good reason to change. I had a war, you had a few stalkers."

"I was being kind, because, unlike you, I don't relish killing others. I gave them a chance, they didn't take it. No second chances."

The Master laughed heartily.

"No second chances? What kind of philosophy is that? They could kill you with the first. Then where's that got you? Nowhere! 'Coz you're dead! I don't give anyone any chances at all; it's all so much simpler that way, look where I've got to: On top of the world, literally for one year, until you shot me down of course, my dear Doctor." He glared at the Doctor, but the latter shrugged off his enemies look.

"I led our people into battle in the Time War. I was there at the fall of Arcadia. I saw Davros' ship pulled into the jaws of the Nightmare Chid. I saw hundreds of my friends, family and colleagues fall into the dust, one after another after another, again and again." His voice was wavering now, cracked with emotion and unshed tears. "I saw them all die, and I couldn't do anything about it." Then his eyes hardened again. "And you just ran, while the rest of us fought. You ran away and abandoned us, abandoned your people, abandoned Gallifrey, and left us all to die."

"Don't you dare to talk like that to me!" The Master roared, some of his spit flying into the Doctor's face. "You said yourself that you led the battle." He calmed suddenly "Which means that it was al your fault."

"No"

"Yes it was and you know it! You failed to stop the Dalek's from being created. They found out. They declared war. You led us into battle! You let them all die! You ended the battle! You killed them all! You destroyed Gallifrey and left it to burn! You murdered everyone we knew! Everyone you loved, everyone who loved you. They're all dead! All because of you!" Another pause "It really is true what they say about you isn't it?" The Doctor shot him a questioning look. "The Destroyer of Worlds. The Oncoming Storm."

The Doctor bristled.

"It wasn't my fault. I didn't want to do it. The Dalek's couldn't win, it would've meant the deaths of the rest of the Universe, that's trillions and trillions of innocent people. Billions of worlds. All of them converted or turned into dust. It was Gallifrey or everyone else. I had to end it, and I was the only one who could. I was the only one to survive." He tailed off, staring at the floor, his eyes indicating that he was currently far, far away. The Master hit him to bring him back.

"It's still true though, isn't it? The Oncoming Storm, leaving a trail of death and destruction wherever he goes, and everything he touches seems to wither and die."

"You leave that out of this, it has nothing to do with anything!"

"If you'd just use it, you really could be a god! You could do anything you wanted! But here you are, surrounding yourself with humans." He spat the name out with disgust. "The frailest of all species, and so obsessed with killing and war, the very things our people despised most of all. Yet you've lost lives for this pathetic planet, haven't you Doctor?"

"Yes. And I'd do it all over again. I defend this planet because the Human race is so brilliant. They're so new to life, they've only just learnt to walk, and haven't even worked out how to teleport yet. They're so naive, that they still think that Tim Minchin and Eddie Izzard are human, no matter how many times I tell them. These people have so much potential, as a species, and they're barely out of the nursery. Granted there are a few rotten apples, but there are in every species, right? This species could do so much if they'd just think and do rather then kill. They could-"The Master hit him over the head again, silencing him.

"Don't you talk to me about potential!" He snarled, as the Doctor spat blood out onto the floor. "If anyone has potential, then it's us. The only two Time Lords left in the whole of Time itself! We could do so much; rule everywhere and every when! But no, you're too much like your precious humans, you think too small." He grabbed the Doctor's face again, pulling him down until they were nose to nose. "You disgust me." He walked away. "And now it's time for your verdict."

"Verdict?"

"I've just heard your story, now it's time for the jury to decide what happens to you."

"Jury?"

"Rassilon, is all you can do repeat what I've already said? Yes, Doctor, the jury is made of a select group who are specialised in thinking up lengthy and excruciatingly painful punishments for whomever they find guilty. They're over there." He waved an uncaring hand in the direction of a single chair over in the corner of the room. It was unmistakably, empty. "Unfortunately for you, I'm the only one who qualifies for the post, so I'll be filling the post of judge, jury, and executioner. Poor Doctor." He stood tall. "Now then, does the jury have a verdict?"

Quickly, he ran over to sit in the chair now dubbed as the bench, then he stood again. "Yes my Lord."

Now he was the judge again. "Does the jury find the defendant guilty, or not guilty of attempted genocide?"

Jury again now. "We find the defendant, guilty."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. _Like he didn't know that had been coming._

The Master was back to normal, well, as normal as he was normally. If that made any sense at all.

"Well, I'm glad that's over. Such a pitiful practice, but it get's the job done, and it can be fun when you're in the firing line. Now your punishment can begin." The Master sounded far too cheerful for the Doctor's taste.

"And what exactly, _is_ my punishment?"

"Many, many lifetimes of torturous suffering and pain, physician." The Master balled his hand into a fist. "And as the executioner, it is my duty to see your punishment carried out. And I'm only to happy to oblige." His eyes narrowed. "Your punishment starts....... wait for it...... now!"

The Doctor screwed up his eyes and waited for impact. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes, seeing the Master smiling at him.

"Just kidding! Now!" His punch flew towards the Doctor's head.

* * *

20 minutes later, the sound of helicopter blades reached the Master's ears, and he stopped in his task. The Doctor hung barely conscious in his chains, his bare chest slick with bloods. He flopped limply as the Master let go, took a small machine out of his pocket and looked at the screen. A small blip on the radar indicated the whereabouts of the Doctor's "rescue team".

"Well Doctor, it appears it's time to move on. Time does fly when you're having fun, right?" Briskly walking over to his prisoner, he unlocked the chains and manacles with the Doctor's own Sonic Screwdriver. As soon as their support was gone, the Doctor fell, unresisting, into the Master's waiting arms, who gladly received him.

"Whoa there! Easy tiger! There'll be plenty of time for that!" Gently, he lowered the Doctor to the floor, watching with satisfaction as he lay still. Silently, he crept from the room and along the corridor, to yet another room, this time a little bigger then the last, and also, this one had a window. Granted it was broken, but it had been a window in a former life.

Sneaking a look out of said window, he saw the UNIT helicopter land, a huge cloud of dust billowing out from underneath. The rear doors opened, and a whole crowd of soldiers filed out, the Master counted 45 at a glance, then Harkness stepped out, followed by the Jones girl. After them came a team of medics. At least they'd thought ahead, not that it would help the Doctor now though. Time for phase 3.

Smiling, he sauntered back to his prize.

* * *

Martha hurried to catch up as Jack walked out of the helicopter with a sense of purpose. She looked up at the warehouse, trying to see any hint of Doctor-like life in it's dark windows.

"D'you think he's here?" She asked Jack, who was also looking around. Grimacing, he pointed to the now familiar 4x4 parked a few meters away.

"Oh yeah. He's here alright." Jack answered; making sure that Martha couldn't see the large ominous pool of blood staining the ground ion front of him. It didn't bode well for the Doctor. "C'mon. The sooner we get in there, the sooner we get him out, right?"

"Sure..." Came the unsure reply. Jack looked over at her, seeing worry in her eyes. Just to reassure her, he reached into his coat and pulled out his revolver, cocking it, preparing to shoot on short notice. He realised the Doctor would disapprove, but the Doctor wasn't in charge right now, and Jack didn't particularly like the alien who was.

Discreetly signalling to the soldiers, they entered the building. But not before Martha had seen the pool of blood on the dusty ground. Her eyes hardened, and she strode forward, after the soldiers who had already got the doors open and had flooded inside.

As they entered, they heard the distinct sound of someone being dragged through the thin floors above their heads. They charged upstairs, led by Jack and Martha. They recognised this part of the layout of the building, they'd seen it from the phone while the Master had been playing with the Doctor for his own amusement. Martha's blood still boiled at the memory.

Sounds were coming from a room ahead of them. They quickened their pace, desperate to help their friend in dire need.

"Come on Doctor, time to go home." Martha sped up again, as she heard the Master speaking, and as Jack rounded the final corner, his gun out in front of him. Martha skidded to halt beside him, looking into the cell.

Cell was the right word for it, no windows, one door, plain dark walls, and piles of crates at one end. The walls were riddled with damp, parts of them crumbling away; the floor too had been affected, covered in puddles of both rain water, and blood.

But Martha was looking at the two Time Lords in the centre. The Doctor was not in a good way. Shirtless, blooded, and barely conscious in the Master's arms. The Master lifted him up a little higher, one strong arm gripping the Doctor's bare bloody chest.

He smiled smugly. "You're too late. I would wish you luck...... But I won't!" He giggled, raising one of his hands, and one of the Doctor's too, waving at them. Then he dropped his raised hand, and slammed it down on Jack's Vortex Manipulator.

A harsh blue light enveloped them both, and then they were gone.

* * *

Jack sank to his knees, gun dropping to the floor, Martha running to where the Doctor's coat still lay on the crates, kneeling down next to it and crying, hugging the soft fabric to her chest, not caring for the blood.

A small squeak interrupted her, and Harry dragged himself onto her lap. The hamster didn't look good, his fur was all ruffled and out of place. And he was dragging two of his legs.

Martha hugged the tiny animal and the Doctor's coat, even as Jack knelt down behind her, he in turn hugging her close to him as she cried, rocking her backwards and forwards, burying his face in her shoulder.

* * *

**Please review! Reviews are life, and they mean I write quicker! Well.......... I try to, anyway!**

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	6. Angst, Angst, Angst and more Angst

**I know it's a little short, but I felt that I'd kept you all waiting long enough... I also wanted to get this out because I felt that the time was right for the dedication.**

**I'm starting to realise that I'm rapidly turning Martha into a depressed nothing's-ever-going-to-be-alright-ever-again kind of person. I'm trying to change, but I think my strong point is angst when it comes to writing...**

**Thanks again to Noofle, for being an amazing BETA at short notice, and correcting my many mistakes. (Seriously, thanks:))**

**And now on a serious note: This chapter is dedicated to the memories of Alan Bannon and James Shears, the firefighters who tragically lost their lives fighting a fire in a flat on the 9th floor of a 13-storey building in Southampton (friends of the familly). R.I.P. :'(**

* * *

Martha stood, cradling Harry in one hand, holding the Doctor's coat in the other, hugging both close, not caring about the blood on either one of them. She dried her tears with a clean section of material, hoping that she would be able to get it cleaned by the time he got back. Jack jogged back into the cell, just slightly out of breath. After the Master had got away with the Doctor (again) Jack had quickly set about getting the UNIT soldiers back into the helicopter, with the hope of getting back to their HQ and pinning the Master down ASAP.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Come on Martha." He looked down at the quivering ball of fur in her hand. "Harry needs medical attention, and if we hurry, we can still find the Doctor before anything else happens to him."

Martha nodded, and then frowned as she thought of the medical team in the helicopter. "But I thought those doctor's in the helicopter couldn't treat animals?" She hiccupped.

Jack smiled knowingly. "Oh they can. I mean, Harry deserves it, he's probably saved more planets than I have, right?" He looked over at the hamster, who squeaked quietly, then burrowed into Martha's jacket for warmth, evidently deciding that it was time that the jacket had a nest in the inside pocket. Chuckling, Jack looked back to Martha. "They can and they will, whether they like it or not!" He took her hand, and led her out of the cell.

As they approached the helicopter, Martha took one last look around, trying to get a sense of what the Master had felt, what he had aimed to achieve by bringing the Doctor here. True, it was desolate, away from prying eyes. No-one would bother him here, so he could pretty much do whatever he wanted. She could see the Master's logic, even if she hated him for it.

Looking back at the warehouse, she was sure that she could almost feel the Doctor; his sense of dread, despair and hopelessness. She had seen how the Master's death had affected him, after the Year That Never Was. He had become withdrawn and depressed within minutes of Jack's departure, after the Captain had politely refused to go travelling with him again, and he had admitted to her at a later date that it was unfair on her. He had said that he had been hoping for Jack to stick around, as she and Jack could have gone off and done whatever humans do while he got over his depression and finally came to his senses again.

But of course she hadn't known that at the time. That was why she had left him that day. She had told him that it was so she could help her family, and it was, mostly. The other part had been that she wanted to give the Doctor time to himself. So she had given him a few weeks, and then called him, ordering that he have dinner with her family. He had whined and moaned, but when she had contacted Jack, and he had managed to drag the TARDIS to Cardiff and impound it, the Doctor had relented, and grudgingly sat down to a meal with Martha, her family and Jack. He had chatted to Francine like an old friend, started getting to know Clive and Leo, laughed at jokes that Tish told, and told Jack off for flirting with everyone, including the Doctor himself at one point.

Martha smiled at the memory. She had enjoyed that day, and afterwards the Doctor had gone off again, this time taking Jack with him. A few weeks later they returned, and her family had almost thrown her into the spaceship, telling her that they would be fine and not to worry. So she had gone travelling with them again.

It was like everything had been back to normal. They had visited so many worlds, saved planets, and of course, done an outrageous amount of running (but that came with the job so she didn't mind). The Doctor had seemed fine then. It seemed that the time with Jack had done him a galaxy of good, and they were all happy and doing what they did best. But now this had brought it all back.

She could feel Jack's hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her to their transport. As grateful as she was for his support, she couldn't help but feel that it wasn't quite enough. No, that wasn't right. It wasn't fair. It wasn't that it wasn't good enough, just that he wasn't the Doctor. They had failed to get him back, and no matter how much she was trying, she was finding it hard to feel good about anything right now.

Much to Jack's surprise, she suddenly she stopped dead, staring behind the helicopter. She ignored Jack's protests, shushing him, before taking hold of his arm and pulling him away, towards the small wood she had spotted. Jack quickly caught on and quietened down, he in turn changing their direction and leading her to the small door in the side of the building that they had just left. There was blood on the inside handle, as well as splatters on its metal panels and the surrounding walls. On the ground, at the join between inside and out, they could see a clear trail of dark red following a trail of signs of someone struggling away, preserved in the sopping mud.

As they followed the tracks, the enormity of the Doctor's situation hit Martha. He must have been terrified, having to face the Master alone, knowing he had no hope of winning. She tried to see it from his perspective, and she had to admit, that even in the pouring rain, that forest in the distance was looking very, very inviting. They walked on, and Martha began to appreciate, more so than before, how hard it must have been for the Doctor; the only other remaining member of his race was his arch nemesis. Why did it have to be like this? The Doctor saved hundreds of lives every day, sometimes even those who didn't deserve to be saved, and gave them a chance to start over and get a better life. Yet one of his own kind wanted nothing more than to see him dead? Other than destroy the odd planet and foil plans, what had the Doctor done to deserve this? He had said, just before the Year That Never Was, that he and the Master had once been friends, best friends even, so what could have happened to shatter that bond and set them against each other? What could have been so bad?

Martha shuddered at the thought. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, and she was sure that if anyone asked the Doctor about it, then it wasn't going to be her. Jack was walking beside her, so it was easy for him to grab her arm and stop her pointing dead ahead. They had found it. Martha walked forward slowly, taking in the hugeness of the tree in front of her, gently placing a hand on the rough bark, silently thanking it for trying to help her friend. It had failed, but it was the thought that counted. Glancing to the side, she saw Jack staring up at the large branch directly above him. It was a very familiar looking branch, and to think that the Doctor had been here mere minutes ago. It was unnerving. The camera on Martha's phone hadn't provided a very good picture; the tree was tall, a lot taller than they had thought, and there were almost no foot or hand-holds for a Time Lord with an injured leg, or anyone for that matter, to try to climb away from a sadistic torturer.

Jack patted the trunk a few times. "Thanks for trying!" He smiled, taking a step back and almost slipping in the still wet mud. He quickly righted himself and chuckled nervously, glancing at Martha to make sure she hadn't seen anything of his lone struggle with gravity. "Come on Martha!" he called, turning back the way they had come, searching the ground for a safe place to step. It wasn't the mud which caught his eye. It was the crumpled remains of Martha's phone, half-trampled into the sodden ground.

Carefully picking his way over to it, he bent down and picked it up, wiping off the worst of the grime and catching Martha's eye as he stood. She too made her way over, accepting the phone from Jack and holding it up.

"_Funny,_" she thought, "_how a tiny thing like this can change even the worst of circumstances..._" If she concentrated, she could almost feel the Doctor's fingers around the device, clasping it tight. She straightened up, helping Jack to his feet (he'd fallen over in the sludge beneath them) and starting to make her way back to the assembled UNIT personnel. As she approached, the last few soldiers filing inside, she felt Jack's hand on her shoulder again, turning her around and looking into her face.

"You know we're gonna get him back." It wasn't a question, Martha realised; it was a statement, a simple fact.

She nodded, watching silently as Jack did the same a few seconds later. Then she turned and walked up the ramp, hearing it slide shut and finally close with a loud clang. Sitting down in her seat, she remembered that she still had Harry in her pocket and quickly stood up again. The helicopter lifted off, tilting them all sideways and making her grab out for support, the nearest of which just happened to be Jack's hair. She smiled apologetically and hurriedly side-stepped over to the medical team in the corner, gently lifting Harry out as she did. The hamster squealed quietly, wriggling, trying to get back to the warmth of the nest he had made in the new pocket he had found himself in. She gently soothed him, stroking his back before holding him out in cupped hands to one of the medics. The offending white-coated man stared incredulously, sniffing at the small animal in front of him as if to say "_What do you expect me to do with that?_" Martha was very aware of the soldiers behind her watching her every move.

"He's with the Doctor, and he's injured. You can help him, I _know_ you can. So stop being so snooty and show him some respect."

"Ma'am, I am trained to treat _people_, not _pets_-" he began, but Jack cut across him.

"Well mate, this _pet_ as you so politely put it, has probably saved a lot more lives than you have, and now he needs your help. So maybe you could give him a little TLC, or you'll have me, Martha, AND the Doctor to deal with." Jack glared at the rapidly paling medic, who accepted Harry from Martha's outstretched hands and gently placed him on his lap, assessing the damage.

Martha's shoulders sagged as she moved back to her seat, sat down, and leant her chin on her hands, staring straight ahead.

Jack Harkness considered himself competent when it came to reading women's emotions, and right now his keen senses were telling him that, whatever Martha said, she was far from alright. He slid off his seat, ignoring the confused faces of the soldiers around him, and squatting in front of his friend , sitting back on his heels, elbows on knees, chin on open palms, eyes fixed on hers.

"Wassup?" he asked as well as he could with his mouth restricted as it was currently. Martha looked up, seemingly surprised by his presence. She seemed as if she was considering ignoring him, though then decided against it.

"It's just... the Doctor's saved the world so often, we'd all be dead millions of times over if it wasn't for him. He's died for this planet Jack, several times, and yet a trained medic won't even help his hamster without being threatened..." She paused, as if composing herself "Why is it so hard for someone to help him after all he's done for us and the rest of the Universe?"

Jack sighed; he should have guessed it was something like that. "Look Martha, you know us, the human race, we're a bunch of stupid apes compared to the Doctor. He saves the world on a daily basis. It's just a normal day to him. But these guys-" he gestured around him. "They aren't used to all this stuff; life and death. The highlight of their career is a few alien pregnancies or a Weevil or two that Torchwood missed. They've just got to get involved in the first place, coz right now it's all too big for them." He stood up, waving his arms about him, encompassing the whole of the group surrounding them, then raised his voice "-They just need to realise how big this whole thing is so that they can get their backsides in gear and get on with it! OK?!"

He glared hard at the man closest to him. The soldier broke his gaze first. Jack snorted, patted Martha's arm, and sat back down.

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**CURRY CAKE RULES!**

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**OK, I'm done.**

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	7. Meyopapa

**I know it's late, as in, even later than normal. I swear, I've been working on this for ages, I've had to re-write it four times. FOUR! And then it was getting close to christmas, and I decided that it would make a cool christmas present. Forgive me?**

**Un-BETA'd, coz I don't think that someone should have to work for their christmas present! And a big thanks to Afgncaap8 for giving me the inspiration to carry on with this! (Truth is I had the WORST writer's block! Thanks!)**

**So this is for all you lovely reader's out there! Wherever you are! Happy christmas everyone!**

* * *

Martha got slowly to her feet. The UNIT soldiers had long left the helicopter, only Jack had stayed with her, and a lone guard, whose job it was to make sure that they didn't randomly decide to blow something up. Apparently he'd been warned that explosions happened a lot around the Doctor.

"Don't you have something better to do?" Jack growled over his shoulder to the guard.

"No, sir, Captain Magumbo's order's, sir."

"Well, push off and do it somewhere else please! Can't you see I've an upset damsel here?"

"No..." Martha said quietly "I'm OK, Jack."

"You sure?" Jack asked, gently guiding her arm.

There was a pause. "Yeah..." They exited the helicopter and the door closed instantly. Martha straightened up. Her head was erect, shoulders back, fists and jaw clenched. "Right;" she looked at Jack, a determined gleam in her eye. "Let's pull out all the stops!"

"There's the Martha I know and love!" Jack turned to the guard. "What're you waiting for? Take us to your leader!"

* * *

The Master stepped forward, the Doctor's limp body dropping to the floor with a thud. He strode to the main computer back at the back of the large room he now stood in. Pressing lots of buttons, he looked up at the wall behind the large computer. A section of it began to slide silently up and out of sight. Turning his back on it, he sauntered over to the half-conscious Doctor.

"Now, now Doctor, it's rude to ignore one's host, is it not?" he tutted, sitting on his ankles to study the other Time Lord.

He quite liked the look of this incarnation. Well, all the Doctor's faces had been alright in their own way, looks wise, but this one was by far the best. The way that his mouth hung ever so slightly open as he tried desperately to breathe with as little pain as possible. The tiny groans of pain that escaped every now and again were like music to the Master's ears. His hair was spiky in some places and smooth in others as the blood clotted and congealed beneath it. His eyes, usually deep and mysterious, hiding the wisdom of all ages past took on a glazed look as he fought waves and waves of agonising torture.

It was a wonderful thing; the art of pain. Bodies and minds could be twisted into such elegant shapes. They say that sacrifices have to be made for the sake of fine art. As long as the sacrifice wasn't his own, the Master was fine with that.

"Come, Doctor, I need to show you your new home!" he said cheerfully, sliding his arms underneath the Doctor's and dragging him over to the computer banks. A section of the wall behind it has slid up at the Master's command, and now the wall held a huge window, landscape, stretching from one side of the room to the other.

And through the glass was a most magnificent view; The Earth, Sol 3, suspended in the vacuum of space, revolving slowly on its axis in the light from the Sun.

"_Well, that's how the Doctor sees it._" The Master thought to himself. He himself saw the planet as a waste of time, space, rock, gasses and effort. True he'd taken control a while back, but that was just so that he could reach out and take other planets. After a while, the whole Universe would've fallen, just like the Doctor's precious Earth, with the amassed armies of world after world after world, the Master could've been conqueror or all. Then the Doctor had come. And the Master had fallen. The Master had _died_! But no more.

"_No more!"_ he thought, chuckling.

The Doctor's legs weren't working yet, so the Master was having to half-carry, half-drag him across the floor.

"For a skinny guy, you're really heavy!" the Master complained, before he stopped himself. It seemed he'd picked up some Earth terminology. There was no word "skinny" in the Gallifreyan language. "_Rassilon help me!" _He puffed out hiss cheeks and heaved whole-heartedly.

The Doctor said nothing, except the odd moan His head had fallen heavily on the Master's chest, and now lolled with the motion of movement.

"Nearly there!" the Master cheered happily, pulling harder. The blood on the Doctor's torso was slick, and the Master's grip slipped suddenly, the Doctor falling to the ground with an involuntary cry of pain. "What've you been eating?" the Master snapped. The both his voice and face softened. We'll have to do something about your gluttony, won't we?"

No answer. The Master knelt down beside the Doctor, rolling him over onto his front, ignoring the pained yells he received for his efforts.

"I think," he began quietly, "we need to establish the golden rules. No, laws! Laws sounds better. The Golden Laws! I like it!" the he caught himself, and carried on more casually. "You follow the Golden Laws, you obey, you get a reward! Get it?"

Silence.

"Good!" he smiled smugly. "Now then, Law 1: I am your Master, and you do as I say."

"..."

"Rule 2:" he grabbed a fistful of the Doctor's hair, jerking his head up to face him. The Doctor hissed in pain, glaring through half-closed eyes. "You listen to your Master and reply as appropriate! Understand?"

The Doctor only glared. Blood was trickling down from beyond his hairline, running down his face, so now one eye was closed.

"Answer!" the Master shouted, banging the other Time Lord's face down again and again on the cold floor. "Answer!"

The Doctor was audibly gasping for breath now, but still he couldn't struggle, breathing as painful enough. When the Master stopped, the Doctor coughed, raising his head as far as he could to look at his old friend.

"Koschei , what's happened to you?" he whispered, softly.

Silence.

"How dare you address your Lord and Master like that?" the Master bellowed, yanking the Doctor's head higher, the other hand flying to his now exposed throat. "My name is not Koschei! My name is the Master!" he squeezed, tightening his grip on the Doctor's throat. "Say my name!" He said it again and again, each time punctuating his words by bringing the Doctor's head down to the floor hard, and squeezing his neck tighter.

"Koschei"

"Say my name!"

"Koschei"

"Say my name!"

"Ko... schei"

"Say. My. _Name_!"

"Mas...ter"

"Again!"

"M...as...ter..."

"_Again_!"

"M...ey..opa...pa"

The Master was so startled that he dropped the Doctor flat on his face again, though this time it was entirely unintentional. _Meyopapa_... His name in the language of the Time Lords. He liked it.

"Say it again..." he whispered when the Doctor had got his breath back.

The Doctor looked confused at the sudden change in treatment, though pleased at the absence of the Master's hands at his throat and hair. "Please Master-"he began.

"Say it again..." the Master said, just as quietly as before.

"... Meyopapa..."

"Again"

"Meyopapa"

"Again"

"Meyopapa" the Doctor repeated it over and over. He lost track of how many times he said it. And he hated himself more very time. A single tear slipping from his eye.

The Master looked at the tear, gently wiping it off with his thumb and staring at it; a tiny clear shining crystal on a canvas of crimson blood.

"Why do you cry, Thete?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"Please," the Doctor couldn't care less about his dignity right now. "please don't make me say it again..."

"Why do you cry?"

"They're all dead. Every single one. We're the only two left. You treat me however you want, and make me say your name in our language, a name that you use to kill innocents, in a language that was destroyed in the biggest war in history, spoken by our people, who prevented the deaths of everything on our planet. They'll all be turning in their graves." Another tear fell. But this time the Master didn't catch it.

"Our people do not turn in their graves, Thete," the Master said quietly, "they burnt, by your hand, not mine. You have no right to speak so regretfully of their deaths when they were your own doing. Even I never slaughtered my entire race! They should call YOU Meyopapa. No, they should call you _Pontlottyn_."

At this, the Doctor's head snapped up, fire blazing in his eyes. "Malphian'Tach!" he spat, "Nanoi'Envae'Dosh!"

"Oh no, Doctor. For I am your Master! Krva'Styg!" he shouted, almost nose to nose with the Doctor now. The he rose suddenly, walking stiffly over to the window, staring at the sight beyond. He almost envied the humans their planet, pitiful as it was, it was still somewhere they could call home. He had no such luxury. And now the man responsible was powerless against him.

"You're the one who ran..." came a small voce from behind him. He turned to see the Doctor had dragged himself to his feet. He swayed dangerously, but kept his gaze fixed on the Time Lord in front of him. "It's as much your fault as mine."

"Is that so?" he grabbed the Doctor by the shoulders and pulled him over to the window, forcing him to look at the human planet below. "Tell that to them when I destroy their home."

"No!" the Doctor's face, already pale, turned white. He faced the Master. "You wouldn't..."

"Wouldn't I?" the Master laughed. "You don't know me, Theta, you haven't known me for a very long time." He stopped, pretending to look thoughtful. "I know! We get to know each other better, and in return, you won't have to tell the humans that their planet spontaneously bursting into flames was both our faults, deal?" he didn't wait for a reply. "Good, now we've got that out of the way, we can get on with getting to know each other! Aren't you looking forward to it?" he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

The Doctor could only stare at the Earth, sending a silent message to its people. He only realized that the window was getting smaller when he could only see from the Tropic of Cancer down.

"No!" he shouted again, reaching as far as he could to stop the machine. The wall slid back into place with a silent finality. Now the Doctor was alone with the Master.

* * *

**Meyopapa - Master**

**Pontlottyn – Despair**

**Malphian'Tach – I curse you**

**Nanoi'Envae'Dosh – You are mindless and insane**

**Krva'Styg – Fear me**

**(Thanks to Sy-Fi Forums for the gallifreyan translations! :))**

**Reviwer's get bananas!**


	8. Shall I Continue?

So yeah, hello all!

I know it's been almost a year to the day that I last updated this story; Drumming The Spirit Out Of The Storm. I feel really bad about the long wait, so I can only apologise. But it did occur to me, while thinking of where the story is headed and all that I still need to write, that my inspiration for this fic is almost well and truly gone. Don't get me wrong, there were some really great parts that I was looking forward to bombarding your retinas with, but the filler chapters and everything else that is needed for the story to work properly far outweigh the clever jokes and surprising twists and whatnot. I also began to wonder if anyone would actually _miss _this story if I just gave up and deleted it.

So, to save both you and I peace of mind and months of slow waiting-patiently-for-an-update torture, this is what I am doing.

Review to let me know if you think I should in fact carry on with this story or not. This was initially going to be the first in a series, which I will simply break down into individuals if this one fails.

If it turns out that no-one would miss _this _fic, then I shall carry on with the others in the series, albeit without the links that I had previously planned, and probably at an even slower pace.

Also, bear in mind, that if you do indeed want DTSOOTS to continue, that it will probably not be updated for another few months in the least, while I get my inspiration back and sort it all out.

So, your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to leave me a review (or a PM) and let me know what you think.

The closing date for this shall be December 31st, 2011, to give you enough time to let me know. If there is not enough interest, I shall delete the story on January 1st, 2012.

I hope no-one's too annoyed with my decision, but if you are I can only apologise.


End file.
